


Snufkin Week 2019

by Lady_Phenyx



Category: Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson, 楽しいムーミン一家 | Moomin (Anime 1990)
Genre: Don’t copy to another site, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Good Parent Joxaren | The Joxter, Other, Slow Burn, Snusmumriken | Snufkin Has Paws and a Tail, They're invisible at first but he gets better
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2020-07-10 09:53:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 23,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19903813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Phenyx/pseuds/Lady_Phenyx
Summary: Seven connected short stories for our favorite vagabond, including three idiots realizing they're falling in love (very, very slowly).Nature - Snufkin's Very Good Winter, including phoenixes, Little Dragon, Jack Frost, and a narrow escape.Crimes - The Police Inspector has just received a new batch of wanted posters, and one of them has a very familiar face on it.Wardrobe -  In which Snufkin's smock is ripped, Little My gets to have some fun with dress-up, and Moominmamma does a little subtle matchmaking.Injury/Sick - It was only supposed to be a week-long trip, but an accident means Snufkin's late. Time for Moomin and Snorkmaiden to go find their man!Family - In which Snufkin finds out about his blood family and officially meets his older sisters. Looks like it's bonding time! (Also, Joxter finds out he has a son, and arrives in Moomin Valley.)Friendship - A resolution, some revelations, a newfound surety in the strength of friendship, and the return of Jack Frost.Romance - Moomin and Snorkmaiden are finally ready to tell Snufkin how they feel, but a new (annoyingly persistent) admirer has appeared.





	1. Nature

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nature, or, Snufkin's Very Good Winter

Snufkin hadn't seen another person in a week.

Oh, there were the birds – nearly everywhere Snufkin went, there were birds. But no one to try and talk to him, no social interactions, no buildings.

Snufkin hammered the last stake of his tent into place, sliding the hammer back into his pack with the ease of long habit as he walked past to check his supper. Grilled fish tonight, because he did know how to make more than just stew thank you Little My.

Food was a little more limited out here, it was true – it wasn't like he wanted to carry pounds of flour along with him for pancakes, or to carry potatoes or other foodstuffs along. The forest provided what he needed, it was just up to him to find it.

He'd probably be better off if he were willing to hunt, to eat birds and beasts, but, well, out here, it was hard to tell when they were sentient or not. Better to stick to fish, who were universally not.

He knew it worried Moominmamma when he showed up at the beginning of spring skinner than he'd left. But, well, that was the nature of wandering – that sometimes things were lean. She slipped enough into his pack that it was a good week or two before he had to worry about that. Moominmamma could be sneaky when she wanted to be, it seemed, and if she could only talk him into taking some of the food she'd set aside for him under the guise of “It would just go bad, dear,” then she'd slip the rest in when he wasn't looking.

Snufkin had been a little offended the first time, as if Moominmamma were insinuating he couldn't take care of himself, but now it just made him smile to find another well hidden treat in his pack. It was such a...a _mother_ thing to do.

Snufkin glanced up as a flock of birds took flight overhead, breathing deeply as he watched them fly off.

It made him think of the baby birds Moomin and the others had rescued, and what he'd told Moomin then.

He didn't like to think about the times he'd had to go against his nature, been forced to stay somewhere, forced to be in company when he wanted to be alone, had been pushed past him limits by the expectations put on him.

Like the time he'd been trailed by a would be adventurer for a month, who guilted and fake cried and wouldn't leave each time Snufkin tried to break away on his own, who took up every moment of his waking time, leaving him more tense and exhausted than the three quarters of a year spent in Moomin Valley ever could.

The time he got snowed into a lodge with a group of other travelers, feeling the way their eyes burned into him each time he left his room, all the expectations they had of who he was, the way they paused when he didn't match up to them as if they were rewriting what he'd said or done to fit the image they had, the show he'd had to put on each day he'd been stuck there.

The 'helpful' people who had no idea how old he was but were so sure he was too young to be on his own, who tried to force him into orphanages or schools and refused to acknowledge that he may be small, but he was adult enough to be on his own – mumriks were on their own from the time they were small, if they were travelers – and who didn't want to listen to 'no'.

Little wonder he went invisible so easily, though he doubted anyone in Moomin Valley would guess he'd ever been invisible. Or that he had a tail that none of them had ever seen, hands that he covered with gloves as they were only half visible at best. Thank goodness it was those, that could be easily hidden, and not something like his head. He'd never be able to pass through most of the Southern towns without a head.

Out here, in the solitude, was where he'd recovered and where he could recover from so much time spent around people, find real peace.

How did other people stand it? Being inside four walls so much, cut off from the world...the wind ruffled through Snufkin hair as he put away the last of his dishes, and he set off to follow it.

Unconsciously he began to move to the song he could almost hear in the wind, dipping and twirling as he walked, until he smelled the tang of salt in the air.

The wind led him to a clifftop overlooking the sea, the crash of waves down below echoing with the wind's call, a song all their own.

Down below, the sea washed along the rocks, white foam spraying high and settling into patterns on the waves that ever changed, swirling and dancing, as high above the gulls called out their raucous cries.

Out on the horizon an albatross flew, a speck of white against the sky.

Snufkin stood at the top of the cliff, arms spread wide as he drank in the smells, the sights. Laughing in joy, he spun, once, twice, three times, overflowing into action.

Oh, it was good to be alive and free!

\---XXX---

Snufkin set off early in the morning, with no destination in mind. The road was wide, the sky tall, and he intended to see it all.

He was a little more limited now, than he once had been. There was a place to return to now, a place filled with love and people waiting to see him again, a place he wanted to return to.

But that was then, and this was now, and he was going to live in this moment.

He passed through towns, never staying more than a night at the most. Now wasn't a time for people, for buildings that hemmed him in and blocked the view of the sky and stars.

Snufkin passed through for those supplies he couldn't find out in the wilderness – a new fishing hook, some coffee – things he could trade a song or story for. And for the songs and stories, the cultures, that he had yet to see and hear.

He was gone like the wind in the morning, leaving behind stories of his own though he didn't know it and might not have enjoyed knowing.

But the towns weren't where he belonged. Out here was.

\---XXX---

Snufkin sat on top of the cliff, looking over the valley below. The sun was just rising, and his kettle sat on the small fire behind him, forgotten.

Out over the trees and hills was the sunrise, blues and purples reflecting pink off the clouds. Against the still dark velvet of the sky a flock of phoenix flew, flaring and sparkling, letting off small sparks of flame from their wings as they glowed like embers against the space where the light of the rising sun mingled with the retreating night in a dance old as time, meeting for a brief caress before one must retreat and give way to the other.

The phoenixes, seven in all, dipped and swirled around each other, leaving trails behind them glowing against the sky.

Snufkin sat and watched them, committing the image to memory. There was a song in their flight, in their free dance, he could feel it.

He would compose it later, but he could feel it taking shape already, a song of freedom and joy in flight and in pushing oneself to their own limits for the sheer elation of it.

\---XXX---

The flowers in this meadow came up to Snufkin's waist in a riot of colors and shapes and sizes, and in places, some of them even towered over the tip of his hat.

Sunflowers, he'd heard the tall ones were called, flowers that followed the sun during its daily journey. Much like him, he supposed.

The flowers waved around him in the breeze, and there might have been no one alive in the world but him.

Sliding off his pack, Snufkin dropped onto his back among the flowers, looking up at the small bits of blue he could see through the petals, the sun filtering down on him in small patches of color through the petals.

Digging in his pocket, Snufkin pulled out his harmonica. Tapping it twice against his palm, still lying flat, Snufkin raised it to his lips and began work on a flower song.

He didn't bother to set up his tent that night, but let the flowers shelter him as he stared up at the vast expanse of sky above, stretching farther than eyes could follow and with stars brighter than the finest jewels.

\---XXX---

Snufkin took another step and made a face. There was no one here to see him, so why not express how nasty it felt to find yet another spot that looked like solid ground but was actually mossy mud?

On the one hand, it was nature, and it was beautiful. On the other, well, his feet were soaked, and wet socks were the worst.

Well, other things could be worse technically, but on the scale of small inconveniences that left one feeling nasty, wet socks topped the list.

Locals apparently didn't go into the marsh anymore for fear of a 'creature', and there were signs warning passer by to keep out and away from the monster.

Which, of course, was why Snufkin was standing in mud with wet feet.

Something moved, out in the marsh, and Snufkin went still.

It could be something like the Groke, which was what he'd thought as soon as he'd seen the signs, heard the stories. Whatever it was had been avoiding people, and the Groke, though she was dangerous, wasn't malevolent. Just lonely.

Then again, if he was wrong...

Branches cracked and crashed, something at least as big as Snufkin racing through the marsh towards him.

Snufkin braced himself, his hand going for the knife in this boot. It wasn't much, but it was the best he had.

He was tackled a second later and braced himself for pain, squawking indignantly when a tongue swiped across his face, big and sloppy enough to cover his entire face in spit.

Sputtering, he shoved the creature off him, scrubbing at his face as he tried to sit up, a difficult proposition as the creature kept trying to come at him, wriggling excitedly.

His face finally clean, Snufkin could open his eyes, and his mouth dropped open at what he saw.

“Little Dragon?” he asked in disbelief. Little Dragon, not so little anymore, the size of a wolf by now, as big as Snufkin, wiggled with delight at being recognized and rubbed his face against Snufkin, nearly knocking him down a second time.

“So this is where you ended up,” Snufkin mused, his own voice sounding odd to his ears after nearly a week of not needing to speak. He stroked along Little Dragon's back, who preened and purred. “And you remember me, huh? Seems a good place for a dragon. Goodness, what do you eat now? Can't still be flies.”

Little Dragon beamed and tackled Snufkin again.

\---XXX---

Snufkin spent a week with Little Dragon in the marsh. Little Dragon protested vigorously when Snufkin had to leave, following him out of the marsh and down the road, ignoring Snufkin's pleas to go back to the marsh.

The townspeople gaped from behind their windows as Snufkin passed though, the dragon following behind like a puppy.

Snufkin simply rolled his eyes and kept walking. It wasn't worth it to try and talk to anyone right now, and he wasn't sure Little Dragon had learned how to tolerate other people yet.

It took the rest of the day to convince Little Dragon to leave him be, a feat he only managed after they came to a river and Little Dragon dove for fish before looking up at the sky and back to Snufkin, whining.

“Go on,” Snufkin urged. “You can do it.”

Little Dragon whined again before repeating his performance of earlier in the week, knocking Snufkin over to love on him before taking off.

Snufkin had a feeling he'd be seeing Little Dragon again, now that he was airborne and traveling on his own. Maybe even in Moomin Valley, once Little Dragon was strong enough to make that flight.

He hoped Moomin was ready.

\---XXX---

Snufkin ran as fast as his legs would carrying him, whooping. He flung the last of the signs he carried and heard one of his pursuers yelp. Turning on a dime, he leapt upward, catching a branch and hauling himself into a tree.

He was off through the branches, hearing the pursuit stop at the tree line but not stopping yet. Snufkin dropped to the ground, still running, laughter bubbling in his chest but held there.

No sense in getting away only to let them know where he was.

Behind him was chaos, panic, and disorder. That's what they earned for trying to fence off part of the forest for private use, part of the forest where no one else went, that happened to contain a good deal of berry bushes they wanted to keep to themselves.

This was public land, meant for everyone.

Snufkin skidded to a halt, staring in disbelief at the row of guards that materialized out of what seemed to be nowhere, and screamed as hands grabbed onto his shoulders and arms, fighting frantically as he was dragged off.

\---XXX---

A week. They kept him trapped there for a week, in a so-called orphanage. Snufkin was far too old for an orphanage, thank you, he wasn't a child. He didn't need looking after.

This had been one of the bad ones, too. The kind where they were trying to force everyone to fit into a mold, no matter their species or nature. A frighteningly efficient one, always on the look out for new people that no one would miss, in their opinion, that could be trained up as “servants” (slaves, to Snufkin's view, as the few he'd seen “adopted” had had their spirits broken so far they were unlikely to be able to ever live on their own again).

And a lot of the children had started to lose hope of ever getting out of here without being broken.

Well, if they'd thought Snufkin had caused panic, chaos, and disorder when he'd been caught, it was nothing compared to what he and the others left behind them when they escaped.

Someone had lit the building on fire, as well, during the escape, and Snufkin didn't know who exactly had done it but he was proud of them. He was pretty sure it was one of the adults, trying to blame it on them, even though they were nearly all gone from the grounds by then, but he hoped it was one of the others. There were a pair of twins, and the sister was a bit of a pyromaniac, so just maybe...

Too bad they were so far away, really. Snufkin would have liked to see it burn.

The people of the town were in a panic as they were confronted with the reality of the orphanage, with realizing what poison had been in their midst all this time, and Snufkin slipped away during the chaos.

The others would be fine, now. They were going to get the help they needed to heal.

Snufkin needed the woods, and solitude, and to wash away the ash and dust and get out of this uniform and back into his proper clothes, clutched tight in a bundle to his chest. To get his feet and lower legs and arms up to the elbow back to visibility.

Behind him, the sky was alight with flames as he disappeared into the woods.

\---XXX---

Snufkin watched the flowers around him as they held up their heads proudly, almost ready to bloom.

He was traveling back home, and spring was on its way in this part of the world. He wasn't close enough to Moomin Valley to feel the bite of the cold, but the wind held a chill, letting him know he was on schedule.

It had only taken a day to get himself visible again, and he'd been on the road for two weeks now without meeting another person.

Apart from that one week, this had been a wonderful winter, and it looked to be another good spring, if everything kept going as it was.

Snufkin paused on the track, looking down at a trail of frost. It wasn't the Groke's, it was too light and delicate for that, and so he followed it.

Curiosity may have killed the cat, but it got the mumrik first, and satisfaction was enough to bring them both back.

The frost led him to a clearing in the forest, one bound by trees and flowers ready to bloom, all of them with the lightest coating of frost, protecting them from the cold of night.

And in the center of that clearing was a staff, standing upright, and a young man crouching on the crook at the top, a young man in brown and blue and with a shock of snow white hair.

“Jack Frost,” Snufkin said, a bit surprised but mostly pleased.

Jack jumped, twisting to face Snufkin. The staff never so much as wobbled under him as he held on with his bare toes, a feat Snufkin couldn't quite figure out. Then again, this was a spirit of winter he was looking at. It was probably some sort of magic.

Jack tilted his head, smiling a little bemusedly. “Hello,” he said. His eyes went wider as he looked at Snufkin. “Wait...you're not a spirit. But you can see me?” he asked breathlessly.

Snufkin nodded, a bit bemused himself. So maybe most things he didn't believe in unless he'd seen them, but Jack Frost made sense enough, why shouldn't he exist? The Lady of the Cold did, Little My and Too-Ticky and Moomin could swear to that, so why not believe in Jack Frost, who brought the autumn as well as the winter?

“He sees me,” Jack said quietly, wonderingly. He laughed, jumping off the staff and floating towards Snufkin, flipping it up into his hand as he did. “What's your name? I feel like I know you.”

“Snufkin, and I don't usually stay anywhere past autumn, so I doubt it.”

“Snufkin...” Jack said, tapping his chin. “That sounds familiar...oh! The traveler!”

Snufkin frowned faintly. “I'm not sure I like people talking about me.”

Jack shrugged. “It happens when you're different,” he said lightly. “Why don't you clear some of the stories, while you're here? They sounded like we'd get along.”

\---XXX---

The two sat in the meadow the rest of the day. Jack was, Snufkin found, as easy to talk to as Moomin, and as comfortable with the long silences as Snufkin himself was.

Jack had seen Snufkin, they finally decided, on his brief trips through Moomin Valley as he kick started the autumn season.

Next time, they decided, he'd have to say hello, and it was up to Snufkin to get the others to believe in him before then. He was scared, at times, of trying, burned by too many years of people not believing in him and so not seeing him and walking straight through him.

Snufkin played for Jack, the song of the flight of phoenix, of the flower and starry sky, of the dragon and the park and the orphanage. Of traveling for the joy of being alone and walking while heading back home.

Jack spoke of being the spirit of autumn and winter, of being a Guardian of Childhood, of centuries of mischief and protectiveness.

Jack even passed Snufkin his staff, explaining how he used it to channel his powers as Snufkin ran his hands over it.

“It's beautiful,” Snufkin said, holding it gently in both hands in front of him. As he did, it glowed, and he froze, staring in dismay.

Flowers and vines erupted around the staff, wrapping around it and trailing to the ground. “Is it supposed to do that‽”

Jack stared, at a loss, before softening with a laugh. “You sure you're not magic?”

“I am absolutely sure,” Snufkin said, staring at the staff as if it had bitten him.

“Spring spirit, maybe?”

“No I'm not. I want to give it back, but I'm not sure I can,” Snufkin tugged at his hands, but the flowers and vines bound his hands to the staff securely.

Jack patted Snufkin's shoulder. “Being a Seasonal Guardian is a tough job, Snuf. Good luck with the promotion, buddy.”

“Jack stop it I am seriously freaking out right now why is it doing this.”

\---XXX---

The staff only let go when Jack took it back into his hands, frost spreading along the wood and making the flowers and vines drift off it, like leaves from the tree in autumn. Snufkin snatched his hands back as soon as they were free, only reluctantly touching it again when Jack urged him to, fascinated with how flowers sprang up again around the staff at Snufkin's touch, bursting from the ground when Snufkin gingerly rested the tip on the grass.

Neither could explain it, as Snufkin was adamant he didn't have magic, spring or otherwise.

They sat and talked long into the night, and in the morning parted ways, agreeing to meet in Moomin Valley in autumn.

And who knew, maybe they'd have an answer by then.

\---XXX---

Birds called out overhead, echoing Snufkin's spring tune back to him, mixed in with the calls Snufkin had learned meant “Snufkin's come back!”

He topped the last hills and waved towards the woods where Teety-Woo watched, never breaking stride until he exited the tree line, the scents and sights of Moomin Valley in spring surrounding him.

There were calls of his name from below, and he paused his song as Moomin came running to greet him, Snorkmaiden trailing behind.

Truly, there was no place quite like Moomin Valley in the spring. And despite it being his nature to roam, there was nothing like returning to Moomin Valley and the closest thing he had to a home in this wide, wonderful world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I almost forgot to mention that the scene with Jack Frost was inspired by a piece of art by avril-circus over on tumblr. :)


	2. Crime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a very familiar face on one of the new Wanted posters the Inspector has just received...

For Snufkin, Moomin Valley – or, to be precise, the people in it – were becoming home. A place to return to, each year, the safe harbor he'd never thought he'd actually want.

But there were a few sour notes in the song that was home, and a few he couldn't quite place.

Stinky was one sour note – it could have been so much better if he'd stuck to mischief, but he nearly always took it too far, or got caught up in some kind of bank-robbing scheme, and made everyone miserable. Every so often he'd do something that made them think he might be okay, if he tried, and then...Snufkin still hadn't forgiven Stinky for the incident with Ninny, or what he'd done while body-swapped with Moomin.

The witch, of course, could be one when she felt like it, and sometimes Mrs. Fillyjonk or some of the other similarly minded people living in the valley could interrupt the song. Like when they raised a fuss over the state of Snufkin's clothes, or other people not being 'proper', or a host of other things that didn't seem worth the energy to fuss over to Snufkin's way of thinking.

So what if Moomin House wasn't spotless? At least it was welcoming, which he couldn't say for a lot of their homes.

But the big off note was the Police Inspector.

Snufkin couldn't quite figure out his place in the song of Moomin Valley, as Snufkin heard it. The Inspector should have been a sour note, and yet...

Snufkin and the police...didn't get on. A bit of an understatement, perhaps, but he would be willing to leave them alone if they left him alone, but they would get so upset about a few pulled up signs, about a few fences knocked down, a bit of 'vandalism' as they called it, and go all overboard about it.

Probably that old vagabond vs money battle. They had no right to the forests, no matter their money, and that was that. But the police would side with the money, with the letter of laws rather than the spirit of justice, and so they didn't get on.

But, well...this Inspector was laid back, spending most of his days tending his gardens or going on picnics with Little My's older half sister, Mymble, often with Little My tagging along. He seemed to care more about keeping peace in Moomin Valley, with protecting the people in it, than in persecuting crimes.

Snufkin wondered about that, sometimes. He'd pulled up signs, invaded a park, set hattifatteners on the keepers during Midsummer that one year, and everyone had heard him confess to it, and yet nothing had come of it. It had all been settled that evening, and the Inspector never even glanced twice at Snufkin now, treating him the same as Moomin and the rest.

He was used to getting sidelong looks from cops even before he'd done anything wrong, and yet this one actually still listened to him?

Except for that one time, though, well...Snufkin hadn't done anything technically wrong here? Maybe that was why the Inspector left him alone. There just really wasn't much crime to do in Moomin Valley – Snufkin's sort of crime, at least. Rebelling against unjust rules and people trying to fence off the forest. The rules in Moomin Valley tended towards the sensible, things that would be silly to break just for the sake of breaking a rule. Things that, frankly, Snufkin only obeyed because it was what he already wanted to do.

No need to raid a garden, to raid a clothesline to replace a piece of clothing, when it was offered so readily and freely, more than he needed.

The unofficial truce was at the point where Snufkin was the one to come up with the plan to 'fill Moomin Valley with crime' so the Inspector could keep his job, and wasn't that a thing? That he wanted to keep a police officer around.

But it would have made the Inspector and Mymble so sad if he'd lost his job, which would have upset Little My and Moomin and everyone else...

It had still been such a shock when the temporary constable came through and actually put him in jail...then again, Snufkin was the only person in that cell that day who'd actually done crime at some point, and all he'd been doing that day was gathering firewood. That wasn't a crime in Moomin Valley, no matter what that constable had thought.

He was almost grateful that constable had been so over the top about it, or he might have been stuck in there a lot longer. Felt good to watch him get a dressing down first from the Inspector, then the Chief Constable, though.

He'd never thought the Inspector could be that loud. Or that red.

It felt strangely nice to be defended by people in charge for once. Not something he planned to count on, but nice all the same.

So he didn't suspect anything when the Inspector stopped on the bridge by Moomin House and asked Snufkin if he could come with him, please, he had a few questions he thought Snufkin could answer for him.

Any other time, any other police officer, and Snufkin would have run the other way. But this was Moomin Valley, and he didn't see the harm.

Didn't see it until they were at the station and the Inspector was holding out a poster with Snufkin's face on it.

Snufkin froze, stomach dropping to his feet, leaving a cold ball of anxiety in its place. It crept up his throat and clamped around his neck, leaving him silent as he looked between the poster the Police Inspector held and the Inspector's face.

The Inspector held out the poster for Snufkin to take, and faintly Snufkin was surprised at how steady his hands were as he took the poster.

He'd never been on a wanted poster before. He hadn't done anything worth it, he'd thought. _Vandalism_ , he read, _rampant destruction of property. Arson. Wanted Alive._

Under it was the name of a town, one that it took a moment to place.

Memories flashed through Snufkin's mind. The building that looked more prison than orphanage. The children inside, some of them almost his age, old enough to be considered adult and on their own, all of them in grey, all of them with dead, hopeless eyes. The signs. The headmistress and her guards. Running, fighting, clawing, the desperate fight for freedom. The plot, the great escape, the fire. All of the prisoners streaming out into the streets. The people finally learning what went on behind those tall, grey walls.

“Well, Snufkin?” the Inspector asked sternly, breaking Snufkin out of the stream of unpleasant at best memories. “The latest wanted posters are in, and I found that. What do you have to say for yourself? That is you, isn't it?”

“I didn't do that,” Snufkin grumbled quietly, growing louder with indignation, forgetting for a moment where he was, who he was talking to. Ironically, he almost didn't think of the Inspector as being Police anymore. “I didn't set that fire, they did. They're blaming me for setting their own things on fire.”

“That sounds like a confession,” the Inspector said, crossing his arms. Snufkin looked up at him, the closest the Inspector had seen to panic crossing his face before his expression went neutral. He sighed and rubbed at his face when Snufkin didn't speak, at an impasse. “It's like this,” he said. “I heard something went down in the town this one's from. I heard it was deserved, but that's not official. And I know you. At least I think I do. You do deliberately ignoring signs and pulling them up and bothering park keepers, not arson or riots. Those are mumrik nature, can't really blame you for those. And you don't trust police, but I need you to tell me what happened. Because this smells, and I'm not going to be used to hurt someone.”

“...it was public land,” Snufkin said, sullenly, sounding much younger than he was. “I had every right to be there, but they claimed I was still a child and they tried to put me in a cage! It wasn't an orphanage, it was a prison! They...they...” he broke off, looking away, breathing heavily, hands clutching so tightly he was in danger of bleeding, while the tail he still couldn't see because of them lashed behind him. “You have no idea what they were doing there. They set the fire themselves, in all the chaos. They're using you to try and get to me, somehow. They blamed me for it. I won't go back.”

The Inspector had stepped back when Snufkin started to raise his voice, startled and shocked. Carefully he took the poster back, looking over it again, slowly thinking.

“...can you tell me anything more than that?”

“Would you believe me if I did?” Snufkin countered.

The Inspector looked at Snufkin seriously. “If you'll swear you're telling the truth. I know you don't break your promises.”

“If you'll swear you won't tell anyone what I tell you.”

“What if I need to? If the Chief Constable has questions?”

“...ask?”

“Very well. I won't without asking first and only if necessary. And you?”

Snufkin looked away before turning back, defensive and unhappy. “Fine. I didn't want to think about any of this ever again, but...” He took a breath and let it out slowly. “They caught me in the woods, and dragged me off to the orphanage...”

\---XXX---

The station was silent when Snufkin had finished, and they both knew he had given a summary of what had happened, no details.

Neither of them was sure they wanted him to go into details.

The Inspector picked up the poser and studied it again for a moment before beginning to pace. As he passed by the fireplace, the poster slipped from his hands and into the low burning smolder of a fire. “Oh dear, how clumsy of me,” he said, trying to sound sincere but missing the mark by a few dozen degrees, watching until the poster caught fire and was consumed. “Oh well, no point in getting another copy. Some people just have too much time on their hands, to waste official time and resources with things like that. Wasn't even a crime, pulling up a few signs. I'm too busy for this nonsense.” He brushed his hands off and shrugged. “Suppose I'll have to let the Chief Constable know there's been an error in the posters. We can't be wasting official time on a petty grudge and attempts to misuse police authority. Though I think I might suggest he take a closer look at that station and what's happening down there, I think he's going to be pretty angry over all of this, and at the right people.”

The Inspector smiled at Snufkin, who was still blinking at him. He hadn't been quite sure what he'd expected, but burning the poster wasn't it. Or calling the Chief Constable on the people there, and bringing them to justice for what they'd done.

“Well, thank you for answering my questions, Snufkin, that was very kind of you. I was a little worried about the arson charge, but the rest sounded like someone getting in a twist over a few signs being torn down. The Mymble sisters are joining me for a picnic, why don't you come along? I know there's enough, it's the least I can offer after wasting your time like this.”

Still a bit stunned at being believed, Snufkin followed the Inspector out into the sunshine.

Maybe the Inspector wasn't quite as sour a note in the song of Moomin Valley as Snufkin had thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now with fanart by the lovely Sonic_Rider! Find it [here](https://riderdoesart.tumblr.com/post/186548380270/phenyxsnest-cannot-keep-getting-away-with-this)!


	3. Wardrobe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Snufkin's smock is ripped, Little My gets to have some fun with dress-up, and Moominmamma does a little subtle matchmaking.

Snufkin shrugged his way out of his green smock and held it out in front of him in dismay.

Next to him, Little My hissed softly. “Ooh, bad luck,” she said, and there was actually a bit of sympathy in her voice, which said volumes about the damage. “Maybe Moominmamma can fix it?”

Snufkin ran a finger along one of the tears. There were three of them, running nearly the entire length of the smock and they could be mended, but for now...he couldn't wear it like this.

Or at least, he thought they could be mended. They might be a bit beyond what he could do. The fabric was old, and though it was thick, it was also getting worn and threadbare and might not hold another seam.

It sent a little spark of panic through him. Snufkin didn't care much for material possessions, but there were a few he cared about – hat, coat, and harmonica being the main trio.

Wearing the coat was almost like his own form of armor. But Little My had been about to fall in the rosebush, and it had thorns a good inch long, so...

At least neither of them were hurt, and Little My was already tugging on his arm, leading him back to Moomin House.

She was calling for Moominmamma before she'd hit the veranda, and Moominmamma came in a hurry to the frantic calls of her name.

The story spilled out of Little My as Moominmamma checked them both over for injuries, something mildly embarrassing to Snufkin even as it made something in his chest warm.

“I think I can fix it, but why don't you see what you can find in the Everything Room?” Moominmamma suggested. “I know you don't like new things, but I don't think anything new is there. I'm sorry to say it, but I think some of your clothing is getting close to the point where even I can't mend it.”

All three of them looked at Snufkin's clothes. The shirt he was wearing was edging on more threadbare than the coat and stained from living outdoors, and the pants were worse, the seams worn and the edges tattered.

Snufkin winced, and Momminmamma patted his shoulder gently, letting him see her hand approaching. “It's not so bad, dear. I think there's a smock very like this one up there, actually. And I think I can still mend this one.”

“Could you show me?” Snufkin asked. “I can do little repairs, but...”

“Of course, dear. You two go have fun, and I'll show you later. Take whatever you like, I would much rather see you wearing it than have it stored as a just in case,” she said, and Little My was up the stairs in a flash, calling for Moomin and Snorkmaiden.

Snufkin followed slower, pausing in the doorway to the Everything room.

It was a chaotic hodgepodge of things, and he wasn't sure where to start.

Little My had no such hesitation, diving into the piles with abandon.

Moomin called his name from behind, and Snufkin twisted to look at him, Snorkmaiden at Moomin's side. They were both staring at Snufkin, who glanced down quickly. He didn't have anything weird on him, surely they'd seen him without his smock before?

“Um, Little My said Mama wanted you to go through the Everything Room?” Moomin asked rather than said, his eyes glancing down again to Snufkin's hip, his bared forearm where his sleeve was rolled up. He forgot, sometimes, just how small Snufkin was under that smock. “Can we help?”

Snufkin shrugged. “May as well,” he said. He glanced back into the room, which had apparently swallowed Little My whole. “Mama said there was another green smock in there somewhere, in case mine's to torn to save.”

“Oh, but you could choose anything,” Snorkmaiden protested.

Snufkin shrugged again. “I like green,” he said simply. “And my smock.”

“Will you at least try some other things on?” she asked pleadingly. “I'll help you find it, really, but it could be fun!”

Snufkin hesitated before nodding, exchanging a look with Moomin as Snorkmaiden squealed happily and ran into the room.

“I get the feeling you're going to regret that,” Moomin said solemnly.

\---XXX---

Moominmamma knocked gently on the door, unheard over all the giggling as she opened the door. “How is it going in there?” she asked. She stopped short, looking around the room. “Oh! Oh, my.”

Technically, it was a dress. But it was covered in so many ruffles and frills, ribbons and lace, that it looked more like a pile of fabric topped with a matching bonnet. It stood in the center of the room, the arms held stiffly out at the sides, and only a pair of hands at the end of the sleeves said that someone was in there.

Moominmamma stepped closer and tilted back the bonnet. “Snufkin, dear, are you in there? Whatever happened?”

“Little My,” Snufkin said dryly.

Moominmamma glanced over at Little My, who was unrepentant.

“I don't think it quite suits him, My dear,” Moominmamma said, giggles slipping through despite her best efforts. “Snufkin, why don't you get out of that and we can find something else, if you're all done playing dress up.”

“I can't,” Snufkin said miserably. “My hands are too rough, I'll snag it. And I can't move my arms.”

“How did you...?” Moominmamma began to ask, pausing as Little My cackled again. “Never mind, I have a general idea of what happened. I'll help you, dear. There's a lot of laces on this, I'm surprised you let her. Snorkmaiden, there's some clothes more to Snufkin's taste in that chest over there, I believe.”

Snufkin blushed and hid under the bonnet, mumbling something about how he thought he might like to be pretty for once.

“You did look really cute in the sundress,” Snorkmaiden commented, before giggling again. “You're the cutest part of that one too,” she added before going full, deep pink and hurriedly turning to get down the chest. Snufkin, meanwhile, tried to take a step and wobbled, nearly toppling, caught by Moomin under his arms. His booted feet swung under the full skirts and their layers in the few moments he was in the air, held up by Moomin, before Moomin set him back on his feet.

“He looks like a doll,” Little My said with a great deal of satisfaction.

Moominmamma was making an effort to hide her giggles, which Snufkin appreciated. “I'm sorry, dear, but you really do.”

Snufkin looked down at himself, as best he could, and back up at Moominmamma. “Why...?”

“I thought once I might take it apart and use the trimmings for other things,” Moominmamma said, starting to work on the laces at the back. “I just hadn't gotten around to it yet. Little My, did you tie these knots? I may have to cut them.”

“Let me,” Little My demanded. “Hold on, Snufkin, I got you into that dress and I'll get you out of it!”

She began to work on the laces, less patiently than Moominmamma, who helped Snufkin, who couldn't lift his arms high enough in the dress, to remove the bonnet.

“It's okay,” he said when she tilted her head, giving him the quiet look that asked if he was all right. “It's just something silly. I'll be happier to be out of it, though, I didn't expect to not be able to move once it was on. How do people wear these?”

Moominmamma giggled. “I suspect they get used to it, dear, or they don't try and do much physical activity.”

Snufkin made a face and the others laughed again. Moomin held out his hands and Snufkin nodded his acceptance when Little My announced she had the laces undone. Moomin held onto the dress and pulled as Snufkin began wiggling out of it and all its underpinnings.

He tugged a bit too hard, and Moomin yanked on the dress, sending both of them tumbling. A pile of clothing tumbled down on each, and they popped up, a straw hat perched on Snufkin's head and a pile of scarves tumbled over Moomin's. They paused to laugh again, trying and failing to stand a few times before Moominmamma set Snufkin back on his feet as Snorkmaiden helped Moomin to his.

“Snufkin, look what I found,” Snorkmaiden said once they'd calmed down. She held up a smock almost identical to the one downstairs, only sounder, less worn, but not new. “Moominmamma, how did you have one just like it?”

“We collect a lot of things,” Moominmamma said easily. “I just thought one of Moominpappa's friends used to wear an outfit very similar to Snufkin's, and that he might have left some behind. Please, Snufkin dear, I know you don't like having extra things, but pick out more than one outfit? You can leave the spare ones here, but just in case of another emergency.”

“You can keep them in my room!” Moomin offered immediately. Snufkin had been on the verge of refusing, but sighed and accepted. It didn't seem worth the effort to be stubborn about it this time, over something this trivial that wouldn't even add anything to his pack.

“Come down when you've chosen a few outfits,” Moominmamma added as she left, “And I'll show you how to mend your smock.”

\---XXX---

Snufkin carefully folded the 'new' clothes into Moomin's wardrobe. He couldn't see the point in wearing them yet while the ones he wore were still in decent (to him) condition, so he'd leave them here.

He paused, running his fingers along the front of a shirt. He still couldn't quite understand what had possessed him to accept the offer, and yet...there was something about the pleading way Moomin had looked at him that made him want to say yes, and he and Snorkmaiden had both seemed so happy when he did...

It was silly, but there it was.

...would they like it if he wore the new clothes? Snufkin had seen how they'd watched him while he was trying on the silly outfits...the dress had been the last in a line of unsuitable outfits they'd all been trying on, caught up in the game of it and laughing over how silly, how unlike them, the outfits were.

Even the dress had been fun, in its way, until Snufkin had realized he couldn't get out of it on his own.

Moomin and Snorkmaiden had liked how he'd looked in some of the outfits, if the way they'd looked at him, Moomin had looked at him, meant anything...

Snufkin shook his head sharply. Moomin and Snorkmaiden were dating. They were friends. That was all. He was reading too much into it, wanting too much. Anything more would hurt someone, if not all of them.

He closed the door on the wardrobe and stubbornly ignored the pain in his heart, heading downstairs to find Moominmamma.

\---XXX---

“And that's how you do a ladder stitch,” Moominmamma said. “So if you pull the string like so...” She tugged on the string gently and the tear slowly closed up under her patient hands, almost as if it had never been torn at all, not the bulky stitching Snufkin would have done that Moominmamma called a whip stitch or the back and forth of a running stitch that so often wanted to clump up when the thread got tugged on.

She handed over the smock, letting Snufkin examine the work, visibly pleased with it. “I'm afraid it won't be able to take much more mending,” she said gently. “The fabric's simply getting too worn. Will the smock Snorkmaiden found be a decent replacement when that happens?”

“It's hard to believe you had one just like mine,” Snufkin said. “You're sure about giving it to me?”

“We haven't seen Joxter in years, so I'm sure it's fine,” Moominmamma said easily.

Snufkin perked up. “Joxter? The one from Pappa's stories?”

“The very same. Pappa's stuck a bit on his memoirs again, so why don't you go ask him to tell you some more about the Joxter? That might get him going again.”

Snufkin slipped off the sofa and pulled the smock over his head. “Thank you again, Moominmamma. For fixing my smock and teaching me.”

She reached for him, lying a hand along his cheek when he didn't move away. “It was my pleasure, dear.”

He leaned into her hand for a moment, smiling, before heading upstairs.

Moominmamma hesitated downstairs, watching him, for a moment, thinking and debating, before heading towards the kitchen.

Dinner wouldn't wait, and she thought better when her hands were busy.

\---XXX---

Snufkin woke on the morning of the Midsummer party half dreading it.

It was better than before, now – he and the others had a hand signal, now, he could show them when he needed a little break, so he wouldn't leave any of them hanging when he needed out. And if he joined the band, which he had eager invitations to do after joining them on a whim last year, that would distract him from all the people and let him stay longer.

Now that he knew so many other people in Moomin Valley, well, that helped too. More of them greeting him, making him feel welcome, and letting him be when he got antsy.

Even the fact that the Police Inspector would be there wasn't a problem this year, after their little talk earlier in the summer. It was still odd, to have a member of the police at least partially on his side, to have it proven that this one, at least, listened even to people like Snufkin before making judgment, but that was Moomin Valley for you.

What didn't help was the subtle, quiet commentary by those who didn't think he could hear them about the state of his clothes.

What did they expect? It wasn't like he had the space or inclination to carry fancy clothes along with him, nor did he have a reason to have any.

Snufkin put on his hat and opened the flap of his tent, pausing at the sight of the wrapped package set just outside.

He glanced around, but there was no one to be seen.

A note was pinned to the top, with his name on it, and with a sinking heart he retreated into his tent with the package.

_Snufkin,_ the note read,  _I apologize in advance if this is too much, and if you can't accept I'll understand. But you were all having such fun, and I've missed so many of your birthdays, that I hope you will._

_Love, Moominmamma_

Carefully Snufkin unwrapped the package, staring wordlessly at what was inside.

Smiling broadly, he scrubbed at his eyes when they threatened to well up. How did Moominmamma always know?

\---XXX---

Moominmamma was uncommonly anxious as the three of them left for the Midsummer party, barely noticeable to anyone who wasn't her family, but she was also keeping her reasons for it to herself.

Moomin was a bit anxious himself, wondering if and when Snufkin might put in an appearance. He'd promised, and the band was hoping for him to play with them, so Moomin was fairly sure he'd be there, but if it was too loud, then Snufkin might not stay long at all.

He and Snorkmaiden had been talking, and she was encouraging him to see if he couldn't get Snufkin to dance with him at least once. Of course, she wanted a dance too, and maybe one of her own with Snufkin if she could manage it, but...

She really was an amazing girlfriend. 

Then they reached the party, and Moomin stopped short. 

Snufkin was already there, playing with the band. He wasn't wearing his smock, and Moomin had never seen that outfit before.

It wasn't new, but it was clean and unstained, a long tunic in a soft off white, and someone had painstakingly, lovingly, sewn blue, green, and yellow ribbons around the wrists and neckline and hem of the shirt in swooping, intricate patterns. The skirt (since when did Snufkin wear skirts? Why did he look so cute in it?) also not new, but new for Snufkin, an ankle-length deep green with more of the ribbons around the bottom hem and a touch of lace as trim to match the patterns on the shirt.

Moominmamma sighed happily, pleased that Snufkin had accepted the clothing she'd stitched up and left for him. She hadn't been sure that he would, though she'd hoped, and they looked better on him that she'd first thought they would. She glanced down at her son, who was staring longingly at Snufkin, and wasn't sure if she should sigh or giggle at how smitten he was.

But then again...she glanced over at Snorkmaiden, who had positioned herself so she could watch Snufkin play and who was a faint shade of pink, who kept glancing over at Snufkin almost shyly while still watching for her son...maybe it wasn't so hopeless as all that.

Now if only one of them could figure it out before she had to do something less subtle than a few ribbons...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The yellow ribbon matches Snorkmaiden's hair, btw. Moominmamma's being very subtle here, but she also doesn't want to spook any of them. She just wants them to stop pining and figure it out.
> 
> Also, please note that they're laughing because Snufkin's been swallowed by all the frills of the dress and can't lower his arms, so he looks pretty silly, not because he's wearing a dress. He's having fun too, honest.
> 
> [Also, Sonic_Rider did more art! :D](https://riderdoesart.tumblr.com/post/186570833947/some-doodles-of-the-outfits-from-chapter-3-of)


	4. Injury/Sick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was only supposed to be a week-long trip, but an accident means Snufkin's late. Time for Moomin and Snorkmaiden to go find their man!

Snufkin was used to taking care of himself when he got sick or injured. He didn't have to like it, he just had to do it. When there was no one else for miles, there weren't any other options.

And sometimes, even when there were other people within a close distance for a wanderer like him, well...

He didn't want to be a burden, and there were a lot of people out there he couldn't trust when he was sick. He didn't want to think like that – there were so many good people out there, and even if he preferred, downright needed his solitude, it was nice to talk to people for awhile – but it was the truth.

Snufkin's first aid kit was better now than it had ever been before. He hadn't seen Moominmamma sneaking in the extra bandages, her grandmother's ointments and ingredients, but he couldn't find it in him to be annoyed about her sneaking things into his pack. Not things like this.

It felt...nice, like something a mother would do, which was how he was sure she was the one to do it. Like she was keeping an eye on him from Moomin Valley while he was out in the world without being smothering.

Snufkin didn't need the kit often. Whether it was because of his parents, or his lifestyle, or a combination, he didn't know (and couldn't, given he didn't know who his parents were), but he didn't get sick as often as most thought he would, being out in all weather. He did move to avoid the deep cold – he wasn't supplied for that – but still.

Injuries, well, those were inevitable, but they were mostly bumps and bruises and little cuts. It had been a long time since he'd had anything really bad happen.

\---XXX---

Snufkin raced as fast as he could, hearing shouts behind him.

He wasn't sure what would happen if they caught him – people weren't good at guessing his age, and neither was he, so it would have been anything from a scolding to an orphanage to jail to a beating (though that was unlikely, it wasn't a total impossibility) – and he wasn't going to slow down to find out.

Snufkin considered it very unfair. It was more prank than crime, really. It hardly deserved this much chasing.

They did look pretty silly right now, though. That was probably the matter.

But he'd almost had to do it, after what had happened last time. To test himself, to be sure he still could, after the mess it had landed him in last time. Never mind that it had worked out in the end, that the place burned down, he had to cause a little chaos, take a little trip outside Moomin Valley and do this. He'd wanted to for awhile now, anyway.

Given this place, they'd likely gossip about it over tea parties for the next week and forget all about it in a month – unless he was caught.

He dashed down the forest path, losing more of them to the woods, until his foot slipped on the wet rocks by the river. His foot slipped between two of them, wrenching as he fell, and he hit the water with a great splash.

The chase stopped there, the pursuers panicking on the riverbank (the chase was almost more for show than anything else, for the proper response, and none of them wanted him hurt, though with the noise they were making they could hardly have blamed Snufkin for thinking otherwise) though Snufkin didn't know it as he was carried away by the rapids.

His head broke the surface and he gasped in a lungful of air before being dragged under again, disappearing too fast for the pursuit to follow.

\---XXX---

Snufkin crawled out of the river, thoroughly soaked and aching. The current had thrown him against a dozen rocks on the way down at the least, and he'd be covered in bruises by tomorrow. If he were lucky, and it wasn't worse than that.

There was one stroke of luck – he'd crawled out near to where he'd left his pack. Coughing, he picked it up and shouldered it and started walking, despite wanting to sit and rest.

Snufkin nearly cried out when he put weight on his left leg, feeling pain shoot up from the foot and ankle that had gotten caught in the rocks. He stumbled, grabbing onto a tree to look.

It was bruised, and painful to the touch, but not broken. Wrenched or sprained, then.

Maybe it looked worse than it was, and it just hurt because it was fresh? Snufkin dearly hoped so.

Because he didn't have much choice, he had to put some more distance between himself and the river, and start back towards Moomin Valley as soon as he could. Pain or no pain, he had to get home. He'd told Moomin he'd be gone a week, which didn't give him more than a two day leeway, given the good time he'd made getting here and getting the prank to work. With any luck his leg would recover after a night's rest.

Given everything, he could use the time between now and then to recover, and maybe he'd still get there on time.

\---XXX---

He wasn't going to make it.

Snufkin sneezed again, scrubbing at his face. Everything hurt, but his ankle most of all, since he'd had to walk on it almost right after wrenching it, and he wasn't sure there was an inch of him that wasn't bruised.

To top it off, he kept sneezing, and Snufkin was pretty sure he was getting a fever.

He couldn't travel like this, but he'd made it so close to Moomin Valley...but with the way he felt, it may as well have been a few months of travel away, rather than a few days.

Snufkin knew he needed to be warm, to not walk on his ankle, to rest and recuperate. But he needed to be in Moomin Valley for any of that.

He didn't want to worry anyone, but he wasn't sure if he could travel any more until he was better. Snufkin wrapped himself up in his blanket and sneezed again.

I'm sorry, everyone, looks like I'm going to break that promise, he thought, slipping back into sleep. I'm so sorry.

\---XXX---

A noise from outside the tent woke Snufkin, forced him into moving, a voice calling his name that he shouldn't be hearing, not here, not now.

It took more effort than Snufkin liked to drag himself from his bedroll and crawl to the opening of his tent. Once he had, he could do nothing but stare, struck dumb by what he found waiting for him.

Moomin shifted from foot to foot under Snufkin's stare and tried not to stare in turn. At his side, Snorkmaiden wrung her hands and also tried not to stare. But Snufkin's face was a mottled patchwork of bruises, and his eyes were red, and he was still staring, on his knees half in and half out of his tent.

“I'm sorry, I know you need your space, but you said you'd be back in a week and it's been almost two and you weren't coming and I got worried,” Moomin babbled. “Really, really worried, so I came to find you. I thought if you were coming you'd been within a week's walk so it wouldn't be like I was going South and dragging you back and are you okay because you really don't look okay?”

Snufkin, meanwhile, was staring not because he was angry but because his head still felt as if it were stuffed full and thoughts were slow, as was the understanding of why Moomin and Snorkmaiden were here.

“I'm sorry, I didn't want to worry anyone. I'll be fine, I just had a bit of accident, it looks worse...” he paused, trying to hold back the sneeze, but it tore free. A sneeze, and another, and another, and Moomin and Snorkmaiden watched in disbelief as Snufkin let loose a series of kittenish sneezes that still wracked his body despite their tiny, adorable sound.

“You're sick!” Snorkmaiden exclaimed, hurrying over to touch Snufkin's forehead. “And you have a fever! Oh, Snufkin, what happened?”

Snufkin sniffled, digging out a handkerchief. “It looks worse than it is,” he repeated, his voice clogged yet from sneezing. “I think.”

Snorkmaiden and Moomin exchanged a look that said very clearly that they didn't believe him this time, not one bit.

“We need to get you to Mama right away,” Moomin declared. “No, please don't argue,” he said quickly, before Snufkin could. “You'll just get sicker out here, and Mama can make you better faster.”

“We know you can take care of yourself, but let us take care of you this time, okay?” Snorkmaiden added.

Snufkin wanted to argue, independence fighting with exhaustion, but he was so tired...and Moominmamma...these two...for once, he found himself wanting to let someone else take care of him. A measure of how miserable he was, perhaps, and it should have frightened him, but it was drowned out by longing for home. “I hurt my ankle, when it all happened,” he said instead. “It's hard to walk. 's part of why I'm late.”

“Then you'd better not walk on it,” Snorkmaiden decided firmly.

“How am I...whoa!” Snufin exclaimed as Moomin scooped him up, giving him a testing little bounce as Snufkin clung in surprise.

“Have you lost weight?” Moomin asked, gently lowering Snufkin to the ground. Snufkin shook his head mutely, still taken off guard. “Huh. Won't be a problem to carry you.”

“We're about a day and a half from Moomin Valley,” Snorkmaiden said. “Where else are you hurt?”

Snufkin grimaced. In for a penny, as the saying went... “It would be easier to say where I wasn't,” he said unwillingly.

“Then we'd better start walking,” Snorkmaiden declared. “No, don't get up, we can do this,” she said before Snufkin could start to break down his camp. “We might not be as efficient as you, but we're not hurt. You can fix what we get wrong later.”

With that, she picked up Snufkin's cooking pot and kettle, frowning at the lack of food in them. “When's the last time you ate?”

“Last night,” Snufkin grumbled, defensive. He'd been hurting too much to have much appetite, and with how sick he felt, it was hard to get himself to eat, even though he knew he needed to in order to get better. Snorkmaiden didn't ask more, simply went to her own pack and dug for a moment before she pushed a bit of cheese and bread and an apple, still sound from its winter storage, into Snufkin's hands. Satisfied, she turned and headed to the creek to rinse out the cookware before packing it away.

Snufkin stared after her for a moment before slowly starting to eat.

It was true, the other two weren't as fast as Snufkin was at packing up the campsite yet – they simply hadn't the same amount of practice, and they didn't know Snufkin's preferred methods. It was still less time than Snufkin had expected before they had it all put together.

There was a brief debate over the packs – three was one too many – before Snorkmaiden repacked their two into one and hefted it onto her back.

Moomin put on Snufkin's and knelt, scooping Snufkin up a second time. “Don't argue,” he repeated when Snufkin stiffened. “You're hurting, I don't want you hurting worse. Let's go, Snorkmaiden.”

They set off as briskly as they dared, unwilling to jostle Snufkin, as he tried not to panic silently, knowing his face was flushed and unsure now if it was the fever or being carried.

“...hey, Snufkin? You sneeze like a kitten,” Moomin said after they'd been walking for a few minutes.

Snufkin would have tilted his hat to cover his face, but Moomin's shoulder was in the way, and his fur was so soft, he couldn't resist leaning against it when trying not to would have strained his aching ribs. “I'm aware,” he said dryly.

“So tiny and cute,” Snorkmaiden joined in teasingly, with an odd note to it that Snufkin couldn't place when he was this tired.

He buried his face in Moomin's shoulder instead. He'd forgotten the last time he'd been so sick, and he'd forgotten how much he craved someone to look after him when he felt this miserable. Little wonder, with how rarely it happened. And how more rarely there was anyone he could trust who would.

Frightening as it was, it was almost a relief to let Moomin and Snorkmaiden take charge, to let himself be completely in their hands and to know Moominmamma was waiting at the end of the road. Frightening, and freeing, and a half dozen other strange feelings all mixed up together that would have been hard to untangle if he weren't so sick all he wanted to do was sleep. But something inside, some tight hard little ball, relaxed for the first time since he'd pulled himself from the river, and he relaxed into Moomin's warm arms.

Over his head, Moomin and Snorkmaiden exchanged a worried look and stepped up the pace as much as they dared.

Of course, no matter how quickly they walked, they were a too far to make it to Moomin Valley today, as they'd had to camp overnight on their way to find Snufkin, and they had to stop as the sun began to dip behind the horizon, coloring the sky with brilliant reds and golds and purples in a magnificent sunset that none of them were able to properly appreciate.

And Snufkin was getting worse.

He'd fallen asleep at some point against Moomin's shoulder, his face still flushed. They made him as comfortable as they could, giving up their blankets to make a bed and lying a wet cloth across his forehead.

He woke up long enough to eat the soup Moomin made for supper and talk to them a little before falling asleep again.

“...Moomin? I'm really worried,” Snorkmaiden said quietly.

“...me too. We need to get him home. Mama will know what to do.”

\---XXX---

Snorkmaiden took on carrying Snufkin for a while the next morning, to his surprise. He'd have been more surprised, but exhaustion was setting in, the kind where one's mostly been keeping going through willpower but one can finally relax, let someone else take over for awhile and realize just how tired one is.

Moomin took over after their brief lunch break, sitting only long enough for Moomin and Snorkmaiden to recover their breath. They were too worried to stop long.

They broke through the tree line in Moomin Valley as the afternoon was beginning to lengthen into evening and broke into a run, as fast as they dared, towards Moomin House while calling for Moominmamma.

\---XXX---

Snufkin was bandaged, medicated, and tucked into the spare bedroom. They would have put him in the extra bed in Moomin's room that they hadn't taken out yet from the winter, except then there would have been nowhere for Moomin and Snorkmaiden to sleep, and though they wanted to sleep next to Snufkin, he was too bruised for them to do it without possibly causing him pain.

There was room in the spare room for them to sleep there and keep an eye on him without being too close.

The amount of bruising had Moomin nearly sick with worry, and Snorkmaiden wasn't much better, even after Moominmamma declared Snufkin's ankle, ribs, and cold the worst of it. Nothing broken, just bruised and wrenched, but still painful.

There wasn't much she could do for any of it save wrap bandages around Snufkin's chest and ankle to keep them steady to heal and give him potions and tisanes for the pain and his cold.

She closed the door gently behind her, heading downstairs. Snufkin was already asleep, and she worried herself what could have happened to him, despite appearing calm on the outside. He may not have been comfortable with it, had he known, but she considered him one of her children as much as the rest, and it hurt her deeply to see any of her children in pain.

Downstairs, Moomin and Snorkmaiden were putting away the last of the bandages and potions and salves Moominmamma had needed, keeping them close to hand for later while putting them out of the way for now. Moominpappa was busying himself in a similar way with the tea things, pouring out more for them all.

“Well, I'm very glad you insisted on going after Snufkin, both of you,” Moominmamma said as she descended the last of the stairs. “A few more days out in the wilds and that cold would have turned into something much worse. He should be fine in about a week, that ankle looked painful but it was the worst of it. I'll have to ask him more when he's more awake.”

“Maybe the hot spring he found would help,” Snorkmaiden suggested. “Remember how it helped Moominpappa's leg? I'll help carry him there, if he'll let me!”

“It could,” Moominmamma agreed. “He let you carry him home, didn't he?”

Moomin and Snorkmaiden glanced at each other. “I'm not really sure why he did,” Moomin said, catching his tail to play with the tuft on the end. “I'm really worried, Mama. He didn't protest even once.”

Moominmamma smiled, as if she knew something Moomin hadn't figured out yet. “Well, I would imagine that it gets tiring, taking care of yourself when you're as sick as Snufkin is right now. And it was the two of you. He must really trust you, if he let himself be so vulnerable all the way home.”

She was still smiling as she headed to the kitchen to make some medicinal tea for Snufkin, pretending not to notice the way two sets of ears had pricked up, Moomin staring at nothing starry-eyed with his hands pressed to his cheeks as Snorkmaiden slowly flushed a joyful bright pink.

They'd figure it out, sooner or later. She hoped. Or she'd have to do something more drastic than just leaving out a few books.

\---XXX---

The two took the tea up to check on Snufkin. He was still sleeping, red fever spots high on his cheeks, but his breathing already sounded easier.

They settled down next to Snufkin, and Moomin reached out to take Snufkin's paw, which was peeking out from under the covers. He'd still had his gloves on earlier, but they were downstairs being washed, along with the rest of his clothes, having been gently bundled into pajamas when Moominmamma had put him to bed.

Neither of them was quite sure why Snufkin wore gloves, but they were appreciating the moment to marvel over his tiny paws and the small paw pads they'd never gotten a good look at before, at the tiny claws that emerged when Moomin pressed gently on one. They were so small and adorable! Though it made both of them worry a bit, to remember how small Snufkin looked right now, asleep in bed, to realize how much of his size was due to personality.

Snorkmaiden reached over and took Moomin's paw as they watched over Snufkin. “Moomin? I know how you feel about him,” she said. She rolled her eyes when Moomin looked at her blankly. “I know you love him, silly. I finally figured it out. And I thought about it, a lot, and I decided I'm okay with it. I like him a lot, too.”

Snorkmaiden flushed pink all over when Moomin continued to stare at her. “Moominmamma left out a book, and I'm pretty sure she wanted me to read it, and maybe you should too,” she said, huffing a little. “You read it, and then we can talk.

But I...I didn't go to find Snufkin just for you.”

She refused to look at Moomin now, staring at Snufkin instead, her happy pink turning the more muted pink of a blush. Snorkmaiden reached out and brushed the hair back from Snufkin's face, and the blush deepened. “But we have to talk about it. We really, really do. After Snufkin's better.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My favorite Moomin sickfic trope has been indulged in (size difference Snufkin carrying) and a clue has been gotten. Someone had to figure it out first, let us all praise Moominmamma for giving that last little push needed. ;)


	5. Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Snufkin finds out about his blood family and officially meets his older sisters. Looks like it's bonding time! (Also, Joxter finds out he has a son, and arrives in Moomin Valley.)

Snufkin liked being on his own. No obligations tying him down, able to pack up his camp and wander on a whim without having to get anyone's 'permission' or having them make demands on him.

He couldn't remember having family, had never come close to adopting himself one (and kept away from anyone or anyplace that would have forced one on him, as if that would have worked, as soon as he was old enough to defend himself) and he'd gotten out of the orphanage of this last winter that had been more of a prison as soon as he could. They wouldn't have gotten him a family, anyway, and he was still glad it burned down. Almost gladder that it had let him make a better truce, almost closer to an understanding and mutual respect, between himself and Moomin Valley's police force of one.

Becoming invisible had been almost a blessing the first time, and it hadn't taken so much time when he was out on his own to become visible again. Trial and error had gotten him the skills he needed, and he considered himself to be pretty self sufficient by now.

Still, every so often, he'd find himself envious of people with parents – people who cared about you no matter what. He saw enough bad parents to know exactly what kind of family he was envious of, but it was an easy desire to ignore, outweighed by the obligations that came with family and the freedom of being on his own.

Considering a family would tie him down, Snufkin ignored the small wish when it rose and continued on, happy in his life.

But then there was Moomin, and Sniff, Snork and Snorkmaiden, Little My and Moominmamma and Moominpappa.

It took time to come to terms with the fact that they tied him to Moomin Valley, time and resistance before finally acceptance.

And along with acceptance, warmth, that feeling of having a place to return to each spring.

Snufkin hadn't seen much of his hands but the knuckles and a misty outline for years, and his tail had been gone even longer. But now, as he recovered from the battering at the whim of the river he'd taken, the cold that had threatened to settle into something worse, safe and warm in Moomin House (if starting to feel a little confined, despite the open window and the visitors who understood his need to be alone), he stared at them in wonder, flexing them to see the claws he hadn't realized he had, the fur that was flattened and rubbed in places from the gloves.

The gloves had been taken with the rest of his clothes, and he probably should have been upset over that, but he understood why they had and he just...couldn't.

His hands were back. Sometime between setting out to prank that town and waking up in Moomin House, his hands had come back.

He wasn't wearing the gloves anymore, and he'd caught his visitors glancing at the gloves and back at his paws curiously, but no one had asked yet. Not even Little My, which was a wonder.

Just a matter of time, most likely.

Snufkin thought Moominmamma might suspect, but she wasn't saying anything. Knowing Moominmamma, it was either because the time hadn't been right yet, or she was waiting for him to bring it up. Probably whichever happened first.

Moomin and Snorkmaiden seemed to have a new obsession with holding his paws, though. Running their fingers over the fur, staring at the small pads, comparing the sizes of their hands, or just holding his hand in theirs as their hands lay on top of the covers as they talked.

It was a little odd – Moomin liked to touch him, yes, but Snorkmaiden hadn't been this touchy before. They were both backing off when he started to get overwhelmed, and he wasn't sure what had brought it on, but...he kind of liked it.

His tail wasn't back yet, and he wondered if anyone suspected – Moomin and Snorkmaiden had carried him back to Moomin Valley, after all (a thought which made him blush each time he thought of it, to remember how tiny he'd felt, how warm and soft and strong their arms had been around him, and they were dating, he refused to come between them, so he refused to let the thoughts linger...but he'd never been able to afford to feel like that before, and like so many other things he hadn't been able to do before Moomin, he'd liked it more than he probably should have). On the other hand, he had practice keeping the tail still and out of the way, so the invisible thing wouldn't be knocking stuff off of tables or tapping against someone who couldn't see it.

Moomin and Snorkmaiden kept giving each other odd glances when they thought no one was looking, as if something were hanging over them, some tension, and they wouldn't talk about it when Snufkin asked. Just said that they had something they needed to talk about that they hadn't had time for yet, but it was okay, really.

He wished they'd just have that talk already, if it was worrying them this much. It hurt to see them unhappy.

Snufkin had to sleep a lot – he always had, whenever he got sick or hurt, as if his body were taking all his energy and devoting it solely to healing – but when he was awake, he let them distract him or told stories to distract them, as it lightened the worried tension, leaving them all happier.

And if he add a few stories of the myths he'd heard around the world, slipping in every tale he'd heard of Jack Frost along the way, well, he'd promised, hadn't he?

Moominmamma checked on him frequently, bringing food and medicine or her sewing, to continue teaching him the skill. It was surprisingly soothing, almost like fishing, sometimes almost hypnotizing, and Snufkin was beginning to wonder if perhaps he could try some of the fancier work. Moominmamma would probably like it as a gift, even if it were clumsy still from being his first attempt. She was like that. At least the supplies wouldn't add much to his pack, if he had a few with him.

Moominpappa stopped by often as well, with stories or reports of the latest gossip from around Moomin Valley, reading out bits and pieces of his memoirs for feedback.

Moominmamma and Moominpappa were wonderful parents, really, even if they weren't his. By now, it felt as though they were as good as, Snufkin sometimes thought, even if he wouldn't say it. He was pretty sure they knew anyway, with the way they looked at him when they thought he wasn't paying attention, and they were waiting for him to let them know it was okay to show it.

Snufkin had been awake last night, just on the edge of sleep, when Moominmamma came in to check on him. Had been awake when she tucked him in and brushed a moomin kiss over his hair.

It had taken Snufkin longer than usual to fall asleep after that, bubbling over with the warm sensation in his heart.

But sometimes, Snufkin still wished he knew where he came from and why they hadn't wanted him.

And then, four days after Snufkin had been brought to Moomin House to recover, while Little My and Moomin and Snorkmaiden waited with Snufkin for Moominpappa to begin his story, Moominpappa took off his hat, twisting it in his hands as he coughed uncomfortably.

He shifted, sighed, put his hat back on and rubbed his paws together before speaking.

And announced that it was time to let them know what he'd suspected but hadn't wanted to tell them until he was sure – that he knew both Sniff and Snufkin's parents. That he'd contacted all four. That The Mymblemamma was Snufkin's mother, The Joxter his father, that he'd gotten lost, not abandoned, by Mymblemamma. That the Joxter had never even known he existed until Moominpappa managed to get in touch with him.

That the Joxter wanted to meet him, almost desperately if Moominpappa was reading his letter right. Wanted to know if Snufkin had any room for a father in his life this late in the game, if he'd be willing to give them a chance.

Snufkin sat frozen as the words sank in. He wasn't abandoned? He was...lost?

And...the Joxter, whose exploits he'd so admired and enjoyed in Moominpappa's stories, was his father? That Joxter? He wanted Snufkin? Wanted to be his father?

And Mymblemamma...slowly he turned to look at Little My, who was staring at him, an unreadable expression on her face as she studied him back.

“We're...siblings?” he said slowly. “You're my sister?”

Little My looked like she was about to cry, her face crumpling, and she launched herself at Snufkin before she could.

She hugged him tight, almost as if he would disappear if she let go, forgetting his still healing bruises for the moment. “I'm your _big_ sister, and don't you forget it,” she said, muffled by his smock. 

Snufkin wrapped his arms around her and squeezed just as tight, suddenly feeling as if he wanted to cry but not quite sure why. 

“I can't believe one of my best friends was my little brother the whole time,” Little My grumbled into Snufkin's smock, and no one was able to believe she was angry like she tried to pretend, not when her voice was wobbling and she was still holding onto Snufkin so tightly. “At least I've got two siblings I can stand now.”

Snufkin surprised them both by starting to laugh, and squeezed Little My tighter.

If it was a little watery, no one here would call him out on it.

\---XXX---

Snufkin was in bed for two more days, thinking over what Moominpappa had told him as he waited for his ankle to be good enough to walk on.

It had felt more painful than it was, but Moominmamma had still declared that Snufkin needed to stay off of it, or it would get worse until it was as bad as it felt. He'd already pushed things by trying to walk on it as long as he had, at least his boot had kept it supported while he was on his own.

Given how rarely Moominmamma told him to do something rather than asked, Snufkin had beaten back his instinctive response – to get out of bed right away and try to walk – to listen.

He and Little My were a little awkward around each other for about an hour before Little My decided she was going to treat him much as she had been, just more – a little like she sometimes treated Moomin, really. A bit more cuddly, maybe, a bit more protective and possessive, but primarily the same. Most of the awkward was on Snufkin.

Little My had other siblings, she knew how to be a big sister, (mostly, as Snufkin was s different kettle of fish to the rest of the Mymble brood) but Snufkin had never been a little brother before.

He spent most of those two days turning over everything Moominpappa had told him in his head before making a decision.

\---XXX---

Snufkin had almost turned back three times now. He'd been okayed by Moominmamma for short walks, and technically, this was a short one, but it felt longer than his winter trips had ever been.

How was it he could do so many things without flinching, was considered by so many to be stoic and not care about what others thought of him, yet could barely bring himself to do this?

How did one do this? Just go...break down the door and demand sibling bonding? Mymble and Little My already had more siblings than they knew what to do with, why would they want one more?

Except...he did want this, and Little My had been so uncharacteristically upset to know he'd been lost and so pleased that he was her brother now (claiming Big Sister Rights, which she hadn't elaborated on yet, but had Moomin very worried) and he wasn't going to hesitate any more.

With that in mind, Snufkin marched up the path to the trim, tidy house that Mymble lived in along with Little My when Little My wasn't living with the Moomins.

Mymble opened the door at Snufkin's first knock, as if she'd been waiting for him, and the two stood frozen, staring at each other.

They'd seen each other before, of course, but they hadn't known, then. Mymble was old enough to remember him being lost, but there was enough time between then and now, and they'd both grown and changed so much, Snufkin couldn't be angry at her for not realizing he was the same person.

After a few moments, Mymble's eyes welled with tears, and she flung her arms around Snufkin.

Well. That was unexpected. But not unwelcome, as Snufkin wrapped his arms around his older sister, burying his face in her shoulder to take in her scent.

Being lost was almost worth it, if this was what he got after.

She drew back first, wiping at her eyes. “I don't know what to say,” she said. “Come inside, let's not...on the doorstep.”

Snufkin followed her in, glancing around as she spoke. “I don't know what to do or say. I almost don't want to let you out of my sight now, thought I know you wouldn't like that.” She gestured to the couch, sitting across from Snufkin. “I know we have a lot of siblings, but...I never stopped wondering what happened. I just never thought it was you.” Mymble laughed, rueful and bitter. “You were right there, the last few years, and none of us knew.”

“There's no use in what ifs,” Snufkin said firmly. “They won't change anything. Yes, things probably would have been different if we knew then, but we didn't.”

Mymble nodded, looking up at Snufkin with a wobbly but heartfelt smile. “Well. How does it feel to know you've got an entire horde of half siblings?”

Snufkin winced as Mymble giggled. “Can we stick to two sisters and a father for now? I'm still getting used to those.”

“Do you want sisters?” Mymble asked quietly. “You don't like people tying you down, I know. Or do you want to keep on as you have been, as if you're on your own?”

Snufkin took a deep breath and let out what he'd been thinking ever since he'd learned he had big sisters, two of them, that he'd never known about. “I want to do all the sibling stuff we didn't get to do. And I've seen you with the Horde, I know you didn't get to do it with them either. You had to be a second mom. I...I want to braid your hair and let you put me in outfits I may or may not like and annoy you with little brother things and get annoyed with big sister things and tease each other about boys and just be siblings! And...and...I don't know what siblings do but we got cheated out of it! I want to have sisters even if we annoy each other. I...I do want family.”

For the third time in as many days, Snufkin found himself with an armful of sister. It was marginally more awkward this time, since he hadn't spent as much time with Mymble as he had Little My, but he buried himself in the hug anyway.

The hug lasted just long enough to start to become uncomfortable, and Mymble was hesitant to release Snufkin.

“Sorry, it still feels like you'll disappear in an instant,” she said, sitting beside him now. “Which you can, I mean, you've been traveling this whole time, you must be pretty good at taking care of yourself by now...” she took a deep breath. “Sorry. I guess I'm not as over losing you as I thought I was, but you're here now and that's all that matters. So...” she turned to Snufkin with a grin, “Little My tells me she already got on the Big Sister train with the outfits.”

Snufkin groaned, hiding his face in his hat. “I did!” Little My cackled, and they both jumped as she crawled in through the window. “He looked like a doll, all ruffles and lace!” she bragged to her sister. “He was buried in frills!”

Snufkin peered out from under his hat at Little My as she kept talking, thinking. If she was his big sister, then...

With a grin and a wiggle, Snufkin launched himself at Little My, snatching her up and going for her sides, ticking with all his might. Little My squealed, squirming, and her small hands retaliated.

Mymble cheered, laughing, “Tickle fight!” before diving into the fray.

\---XXX---

Things settled down after the first few heady days of the Mymble siblings discovering each other. It was hardest on Mymble, who remembered losing Snufkin clearest and had trouble taking her eyes off him at times, and Snufkin, who wasn't quite sure how one was supposed to treat siblings.

They began to get into their own type of relationship once it began to find its feet and Snufkin began to feel less obligated to figure out how to be a sibling and settle into being someone's little brother.

It didn't change much between him and Little My, save she was around him a bit more, watching him, as if she, too, was evaluating how this changed things. A bit more protective and possessive but...not enough to bother Snufkin yet. It was almost how she acted about Mymble, really.

And she kept looking at Moomin and Snorkmaiden oddly, too.

Four days after the revelation, Little My dragged Mymble down to the river.

Little My flopped over Snufkin's lap, another small thing that had changed between them – much more physical contact, often initiated by Little My – while Mymble settled more carefully on the bank next to Snufkin.

“Didn't see you yesterday,” Snufkin commented.

“Well...I thought perhaps I was being a bit smothering,” Mymble said, looking down at the water. “I didn't want to drive you away.”

“He'll tell us when it's too much – or at least, he'd better,” Little My declared. She opened an eye and glared up at Snufkin. “No more keeping things to yourself.”

“...are you like this with the others?”

Little My snorted. “Hardly. The Horde follows orders when I give them, but they're not much fun to hang out with. Too loud.” Snufkin snorted softly and Little My glared again before squirming around to sit up.

She situated herself in his lap, pulling out her bun and shoving a brush into his hand. “Here, make yourself useful.”

Snufkin snorted again but began brushing her hair anyway. He paused when Mymble removed his hat, and she waited until he went back to brushing Little My's hair to start on his.

“...do you ever brush this?” she mumbled after a moment. He shrugged.

“I run my hands through it in the morning,” he said defensively.

“...you're keeping this brush and using it. Listen to your big sister,” Mymble said, tapping him lightly with the brush.

Snufkin snorted but didn't respond to that.

The three sat and brushed and were brushed for awhile in silence, enjoying the quiet and the sensations and the company.

Snufkin was finishing braiding Little My's hair when Moominpappa approached. “Hello, everyone! Oh, what a lovely braid, Little My!”

Little My grinned. It was a slightly lumpy braid, but decent for a first try, and looked a little strange on Little My, given no one had ever seen her in anything other than the bun her mother gave to all her children.

“Snufkin, I wanted to let you know that I got a message from your father,” Moominpappa said, and Snufkin fumbled with the brush he was still holding. “He's hoping to make it here soon, within the week. He wanted me to let you know. Surprising, from the Joxter, really, he usually likes surprising people.”

“I...my...father? Is coming here?”

“Oh dear, I thought you'd be pleased,” Moominpappa said anxiously, wringing his paws.

“I am! I just...didn't think he'd actually come,” Snufkin said, reaching for the hat he wasn't wearing and fumbling with his hands.

“Mymble, you remember Joxter, right?” Little My announced. “Why don't you and Moominpappa tell Snufkin about him?”

Moominpappa settled into the grass, and the stories began. The nerves didn't go away, but the distraction was welcome.

\---XXX---

Joxter hesitated on the edge of Moomin Valley before he began making his way down the mountain, tail lashing behind him in agitation – the only indication of the tumult his thoughts were in.

All these years, and he'd had no idea. Mymblemamma couldn't say something in passing when they saw each other, brief as the encounters were? Well, the boy had been lost, so maybe that was why she didn't want to bring him up, but still...

He could have been looking. Sure, he was lazy, but children were precious, and Joxter thought he would have found the energy to keep looking until there was an answer.

It didn't matter now. Those were what ifs, and he had to deal with the what nows.

What did one say when they found out they had a son who was nearly fully adult and neither of you had known the other existed?

'Oh, hey, I'm your dad, sorry for never being there for you and leaving you to raise yourself, no hard feelings'? 'Hey there kiddo, just found out you existed?'

He was surprised Snufkin wanted to meet him at all after all these years.

Joxter was still wondering when he came to the edge of the woods and paused again.

There was a tall blue house that could only be Moomin House, and near it, a little tent by the river.

And on the foot bridge spanning the river, a young man in green, with a green hat almost identical to Joxter's own red one.

The young man looked up as Joxter came out of the woods and they both froze as their eyes met.

Long seconds passed as they stared, drinking in the sight in front of them.

Joxter hadn't thought he would know his son, but in that instant, they both recognized each other, and neither could seem to move.

Then Snufkin dropped the fishing pole on the bridge with a clatter and leapt to his feet, racing across the bridge. Joxter found himself dropping his pack and running to meet his son, who flung himself at his father as soon as he was in arm's reach.

Snufkin clung, and Joxter held him just as tightly, too overwhelmed to speak as he buried his face in his son's hair and breathed in.

Later, they would talk. Later it could be awkward. For now, it was just joy.


	6. Friendship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A resolution, some revelations, a newfound surety in the strength of friendship, and the return of Jack Frost.

As a wanderer, Snufkin kept people at a distance.

Getting close to people meant tying himself down to a place, a person. One couldn't wander with too many strings tying one down, keeping them in one place.

But, well...there was a reason Snufkin returned to Moomin Valley every spring, and as pretty as Moomin Valley was, the place itself wasn't the reason.

There were five big reasons, and three slightly smaller ones.

Moomin. Snorkmaiden, Little My. Moominmamma and Moominpappa. Sniff, Mymble, Too-Ticky.

Poor Sniff...Snufkin did like him, Sniff just seemed to have a knack for saying the exact right thing to annoy at times. Some of it was just being the youngest of them, and it was his obsession with material things that bothered Snufkin most of the time. Sniff couldn't help being anxious and worried about things, he just...expressed it while Snufkin kept it quiet.

Mymble had gone up the list a bit since Moominpappa's revelations. Before, she'd been Little My's big sister and hadn't had much to do with the rest of them, but now, well...she wanted to get to know the little brother she'd lost better, as more than just Little My's friend.

Too-Ticky Snufkin had heard of but hadn't met until he started being around Mymble more often. They got along...eerily well, when they were around each other.

And more and more, Snufkin was finding that he considered the people of Moomin Valley friends and allies.

It was strange to him to think of. For the longest time, he'd kept himself from opening up to anyone, from making real connections. After all, he was going wandering soon, and they'd likely never see each other again.

Better, easier, to be alone.

But that hadn't been counting on Moomin. And then meeting Snorkmaiden and Snork again, or the Moominparents.

He hadn't wanted tied down, and had panicked the first time he realized he felt driven to return, that he desired returning to Moomin Valley.

How was he supposed to be a free, wandering vagabond, going wherever the wind took him, if he was tied to Moomin Valley?

And yet.

His heart wanted to go back.

It wasn't until this last winter, when he thought for awhile that he'd never be able to come back, that Snufkin finally began to get it. That it wasn't a cage trying to hold him down, but a safe harbor to return to in the summer, filled with people that cared about him, friends and now family alike waiting to give him things he'd never realized he needed as much as he needed his winter solitude.

It was a weight lifted, a confusion sorted that he hadn't known how to sort, and he surprised Moomin by nearly running to meet him when they met that spring.

Moomin and Snorkmaiden were still acting oddly, but they'd locked themselves in Snorkmaiden's room for most of a day, and now the tension was more thoughtful, considering, and gone was most of the weight it had held before.

There was a different weight to it now, a sort of waiting, and none of them could do anything about it until Moomin and Snorkmaiden decided to let them know what was going on.

He'd give them time. With as much as they gave to him, it was only fair.

\---XXX---

Snufkin paused, lowering his harmonica as he caught a chill to the air.

Autumn was coming. Not for another couple of weeks, at least, but it was on the way.

He looked over at Moomin and Snorkmaiden, who were sitting in the meadow along with him. He'd expected Sniff and Little My to be here, too, but it was just the three of them.

Whatever that talk Moomin and Snorkmaiden had had was about, it seemed things were back on an even keel with them. It was a little strange, how they were including him so often in the outings Snufkin would have thought of as dates, how many times Moomin asked if Snorkmaiden could come on their adventures (not always, there were still quite a few adventures he and Snufkin went on by themselves, dates that Moomin and Snorkmaiden went on by themselves, but still). Strange, but nice.

Snufkin decided to just go with it and try not to over think things for once.

“I almost forgot to tell you some things from over the winter,” he said, and two sets of ears perked up. “There's...a lot I didn't tell you about from over the last winter, since some of it wasn't very pleasant,” he added, deliberately refusing to let himself think about the orphanage. “But...do you remember those stories I was telling you, while I was stuck in bed? The ones about spirits?”

“Oh, yes,” Moomin said cheerfully. “I liked the ones about Jack Frost.”

“Me, too,” Snorkmaiden said, carefully slipping the flower crown she'd been working on over the top of Snufkin's hat, sliding it down so it settled on the brim. He tilted the hat down, glad she couldn't see him blush while she was standing. “I wonder if Jack Frost is real, if he'd come by here?”

“...what would you say if I said I met him, on the way here?” Snufkin said, looking down at his harmonica as he spoke, distracting himself from Snorkmaidens' casual gesture. “That if you believe in him, you can see him too? That he promised to stop by Moomin Valley in the autumn, and I promised to see if I could get people here to believe in him, so you could see him too?”

He looked up to see Moomin nearly vibrating with excitement. “Really‽ I can't wait! Do you want us to get the others believing too?”

Snufkin laughed softly, leaning back into the paws Snorkmaiden rested on his shoulders. Both of them were still reaching out to touch him more than they'd ever had before, but like so many other things, he was rather enjoying it, especially since they knew the little signs that meant he was getting overwhelmed and stopped when that happened. “I suppose. He's not used to people seeing him yet, so it might be a little overwhelming for him.”

Snorkmaiden squeezed briefly, the gentlest tightening of fingers. “I think we can keep that in mind.”

\---XXX---

The group of them were playing in the grass near Moomin House.

Before Moomin Valley, Snufkin might have briefly joined someone's games, but this was so much better. Not a brief pause for a single game, but full games, being called to join them for himself, and being understood if he didn't want to play at the moment.

Having friends, and being silly with them, being childish with them, without any of them expecting something different from him, some other image he had to maintain besides being himself. A himself that could run and play and have fun.

Little My paused, the ball in her hands. “Here comes the inspector,” she said with some surprise. “Our sister's not here, I wonder what he wants.”

The Police Inspector paused by the veranda, tilting his helmet to Moominpappa and Moominmamma, who were having some tea. “Good morning, Moominmamma, Moominpappa. Have you seen Snufkin today?”

Snufkin' friends draw themselves up around him, ready to defend him and give him cover to run.

There was a little flutter in his chest over that even as he moved so the Inspector could see him.

“Ah, there you are,” the Inspector said, making his way over. “I had a report come in today, an update on something we talked about earlier this summer.” He glanced at the others, and Snufkin tried not to tense up.

“You...did?” he said, and felt the worried glances of his friends grow heavier at the way it came out – not calm or neutral, but cracking.

The Inspector nodded. “Let's go inside, perhaps?” he suggested, and Snufkin nodded.

He was stopped short by a paw on his shoulder, lightly touching without restraining. “Snufkin, are you okay?” Moomin asked, Snorkmaiden clutching her paws at his side while Little My glared at the Inspector, ready to throw down more than ever. “You don't want any of us to go with you?”

“I...let me find out what's happened, first,” Snufkin said.

A rare flash of hurt passed over Moomin's face, sending a knife into Snufkin's heart, and he found himself trying to explain without knowing the words. “I...I wanted to forget it ever happened, but if something did, then I need to know, but...later, maybe. After I've heard. I just...I didn't want...”

“It's good news,” the Inspector offered when Snufkin went quiet.

“Then why can't we hear it?” Little My demanded.

“Because I promised,” the Inspector said stiffly.

“Let's give them a minute,” Moominmamma called from the veranda, interrupting the developing stand off. “If Snufkin's ready to tell us after, he will. Snufkins need their secrets, after all.”

“We'll be here for you if you decide you're ready to talk later,” Moomin said after a brief, brief moment, raising his hand. Snufkin reached up to brush his hand over Moomin's.

“I know,” he said, managing a smile. “You're always there when I need you.” A confession greater than most of them realized, as Snufkin hurried after the Inspector.

Joxter, up in the tree, watched in concern as his son went into the house after the Inspector. Snufkin paused at the door, glancing back over his shoulder and meeting Joxter's eyes.

Joxter gave him a long, slow blink. Snufkin paused before remembering what that meant and returning it, slow and a little unsure, still unused to giving or receiving the gesture or the meaning behind it. He hesitated, then mouthed “Later” before disappearing inside.

It took actual willpower not to follow, combined with a desire not to drive his son away by eavesdropping, to keep Joxter in that tree.

Inside, the Inspector held out the report before fumbling with it and putting it down on the table, sliding it closer to Snufkin. “There's been arrests made, over the orphanage and what happened there before it burned,” he said bluntly. “If you could look and tell me if they got all of them?”

Snufkin's mouth dropped open, and the Inspector nodded grimly. “You weren't the only one they went after, but their stories were full of holes while the stories those who escaped gave matched and everyone in the city started sifting through the ruins and found evidence of what happened there and, well...they're lucky to be in jail,” he said bleakly. “If any of them didn't end up in a cell, or they ever get out...well, it won't be pretty. Lots of people are out for blood now that they know what was happening there.”

Snufkin opened and closed his mouth a few times, but nothing came out. It was one thing to have this Inspector believe him, he managed to be a decent person, but for other people to believe him and the others over the people who'd been in charge of that place, for this to be the outcome... He glanced at the papers, at the stack of mugshots that had fallen out of them, and felt a quick surge of vicious satisfaction.

For people who valued how other people thought of them, to be exposed like this, have their pictures out there and everyone knowing what they did...that was better than most anything Snufkin could think of.

“That's everyone,” he said, after swallowing twice to clear his throat. “As far as I know.”

The Inspector nodded and gathered up the report again. “I wanted you to know,” he said. “That they were in jail, that is. And they're not getting out. And to double check that we got all of them.” He started to reach for Snufkin, pausing the way he'd seen Moominmamma do and letting Snufkin see his hand before finishing the motion and patting Snufkin's shoulder, a little stiff but heartfelt. “They're never going to hurt anyone ever again.”

He drew back, shuffling the papers as if unsure if he was crossing a line. “You ever need to talk, you know where to find me. Moominmamma's probably better at it than I am, but I can listen at least.” He tilted his helmet to the still stunned Snufkin. “Hope I could at least put your mind a little at rest. Your sister and I are having a picnic tomorrow, perhaps you'll feel up to joining us? I believe your other sister will be.”

Snufkin nodded, and the Inspector hesitated. “Would you like to be alone, or should I send Moominmamma in?”

“I'll...I...” Snufkin cleared his throat. “I'll be out in just a second.”

“All right, then,” the Inspector said, turning to go.

“Inspector? Thank you,” Snufkin said when he paused. “I think I did need to hear this.”

The Inspector titled his helmet again. “I'll see you tomorrow, Snufkin.”

The door closed behind him, and Snufkin took a deep breath, than another.

He hadn't realized some part of him was still afraid they were out there, that they might try to come here or come after him after he left. Hadn't until now, when he was sure they couldn't ever again.

Snufkin hugged himself and laughed, a little hysterically but mostly in stunned release of tension he hadn't known he'd still carried. In a minute, he'd have to go outside, and he'd have to tell the others something. A summary of what had happened. But for now, he gave in to relief and laughed until he slid to the floor, until it began to hurt and the laughter threatened to turn to tears.

\---XXX---

His friends were concerned, of course they were. The Inspector wanted to talk to Snufkin alone and he'd been nervous, it was perfectly reasonable to be worried.

So Snufkin told them. He prefaced it by asking Little My to get their sister, so he'd only have to do this once, and explained that he had just wanted to forget the whole thing, so he hadn't brought it up. That if they'd known, they would worry when he left in the winter, and he didn't want them to worry.

And he summed it up, finishing with the wanted poster, the Inspector, the arrests.

He sat a little away from them all as he spoke, his hands clasped in his lap and looking out across the valley. If he looked at any of them, he wasn't sure he would be able to keep talking.

There was a reason Snufkin didn't often tell them of the bad times, the times when food was short or things were hard. And this went beyond the bad times, beyond anything he'd had to deal with yet while out there, and he hadn't wanted to tell them.

Because they cared. And he cared back. And if they knew that it wasn't always an adventure, then they would worry more than they already did when he left, and Moomin already woke during hibernation as it was.

There was silence once Snufkin had finished. Snufkin tugged at his hat and stood, about to retreat to his tent. He'd ruined everything, he'd destroyed the last beliefs they had about him and now they weren't going to want to be friends anymore, he was supposed to be the strong one and now they'd seen him sick and scared both in one summer, they knew and they thought less of him now.

His spiraling thoughts when the strip of vision left under the brim of his hat was blocked by white. Snufkin tilted his head back to see it was Moominmamma standing in front of him, who held out her arms gently.

After a moment, Snufkin stepped into them, bringing up his arms to rest on her chest as she pulled him close. She stroked his hair, and he heard soft steps come up on each side, a touch on each arm warning him that Moominpappa and Joxterpappa were joining the hug, both waiting a moment for him to recognize they were there before leaning in.

“You've been so brave, dear,” Moominmamma said softly. “To go through all that and still be so kind.”

“We're so proud, little bird,” Joxter said, soft into Snufkin's shoulder. “We're here for you.” Snufkin buried his face in Moominmamma's fur, feeling Little My squeeze her way in to cling to his legs.

“Any of them show up here and I'll bite them for you,” she said, also muffled from where she pressed her face against his legs.

Around them, Snufkin could hear his friends saying similar (though much less violent) things, and the words didn't matter, only that they cared. They cared and they loved and supported him and they wouldn't stop because of something like this.

Joxter rubbed Snufkin's back as the few tears he couldn't quite hold back soaked into Moominmamma's fur, safe to let them go among his friends and family that loved him.

\---XXX---

Autumn was here. The leaves were starting to turn, the gardens ripening, and Moomin starting to grow sad, though he hid it better each year, was better able to handle it.

Snufkin missed them all too, but he wasn't meant to hibernate all winter. He couldn't stay. And he wouldn't let one misadventure keep him from doing as he pleased.

The others were worried about him out there, but they were hiding it well. They couldn't keep him or Joxter here, so while they would worry, they loved them enough to let them go.

Moomin and Snorkmaiden kept giving each other odd glances as the days grew shorter, meeting in corners and discussing something nervously, almost as if there were something they needed done before winter arrived.

Snufkin let them be. If he was allowed secrets, then so were they. Though if they were going to tell people, he did rather wish they would do it already.

He awoke one morning to a light tapping on the canvas of his tent. Cautiously he peeked out, only the get a chilly finger tapping the end of his nose.

“Nip,” Jack Frost said, grinning widely as he hovered just outside the tent. Snufkin chuckled, rubbing at the end of his nose.

“Hullo to you too,” he said. He ducked back into his tent for his hat, saying, “Ready to meet my friends?” as he came out.

Jack clutched his staff tighter, nodding. “Think they'll see me?”

Snufkin smiled, leading the way up to Moomin House, and didn't say anything more.

\---XXX---

Jack was welcomed into Moomin House with open arms, offered raspberry juice and snacks and then pulled outside to play.

He kept pausing, as if amazed that there were so many people here that could see him, but the others had experience dealing with Snufkin and Ninny, and so didn't push him.

They had finished their game and were lying on the ground, talking and staring at clouds, when Jack suddenly sat up, grinning in pure mischief.

“Hey, did Snufkin tell you about what happened when we met?” Jack asked.

Sensing shenanigans, Snufkin started to inch away. “You keep that staff away from me,” he said warningly, hands behind his back.

The others watched, heads turning between the two rapidly in confusion. “You gotta see this,” Jack said before launching himself at Snufkin. “Come on, touch it touch it!”

Snufkin yelped and was on his feet in an instant, running. “Nope, not happening!”

Sniff flailed and wailed as Little My yelled with glee, leaping to her feet and joining in on chasing down her brother. Moomin and Snorkmaiden were torn but ran to Snufkin's defense, racing after Jack. But Snufkin was laughing, so Snorkmaiden joined Jack's side in chasing him down, neither of them able to keep up as the two zigged and zagged across the lawn.

From the porch, Joxter egged both sides on equally, cackling. “Run faster kiddo, he's gaining! Come on, you're a spirit, that's all you've got?”

Jack surged forward with a rush of cold wind, snagging Snufkin around the waist with the hook of his staff and sending them tumbling. Moominmamma and Moominpappa came out onto the porch to see what all the fuss was just in time to see Jack manage to straddle Snufkin, who was still laughing and trying to fend him off.

Little My danced around them, chanting “Touch it! Touch it!” along with Jack. She darted in, her hands dancing over her brother's sides, making him shriek with laughter as she wailed on him, already knowing the spots that were most ticklish and indefensible while Snufkin was trying to fend them both off.

Then Snufkin miscalculated and accidentally grabbed the staff while trying to squirm away from Little My. Immediately flowers and vines burst from it, growing faster when Jack let go of the staff, tangling around Snufkin's arms.

The game froze as everyone stared. Snufkin panicked, staring back at them, and the flowers spread from around Snufkin and Jack so rapidly they could almost be heard, a sound akin to _whomph_ , leaving the new grown flowers waving slightly from their sudden growth.

“I'm okay...and I'm not magic,” Snufkin said stubbornly from somewhere beneath the blanket of flowers that hid him from view.

\---XXX---

The profusion of flowers was so thick that even after Jack took the staff back they had to dig Snufkin out of the flowers, untangling him slowly. The vines had wrapped around his arms up to his elbows, and there were flowers tangled in his hair.

It was a slow process, made slower by the fact that so many of them wanted to save the flowers, making jokes about “Snufkin's flower bed” and how they would have to put some shells around it, make it official.

“Apparently, it's reacting to how associated you are with spring arriving here,” Jack said from where he balanced on top of his staff, taking a bit of distance so he wouldn't freeze the flowers by accident as Snufkin was untangled. “I did a little research after last time. I didn't expect it to be so strong this time,” he added, ducking his head and looking at them through his bangs apologetically. “I guess 'cuz you're here where the association's stronger.”

“Lucky me,” Snufkin said, blowing a flower out of his face. Snorkmaiden pulled it off and tucked it behind his ear, faintly flushed with pink, not noticing the speculative look Joxter was giving her and Moomin as she did.

He glanced down at Little My, who was rolling her eyes. She met his eyes and tilted her head at the trio sharply before silently miming a frustrated scream.

Joxter looked back at them with narrowed, considering eyes and Little My smirked. Chaos and ally achieved.

\---XXX---

Moominmamma decided that today was a good day for eating outside. Like a little party, to enjoy the new flowerbed. Moominpappa and Moomin set up the table for her while Snorkmaiden, Little My, and Snufkin carried out the food.

Jack was invited to stay but declined. He needed to go and spread more autumn, but he'd be back, he promised before flying off.

It was good to have somewhere he could be seen, but they all suspected that, like Snufkin, he was out of practice with it enough that he needed some time alone before he was overwhelmed.

Joxter was in the kitchen, somehow having managed to get on top of the cabinets, and was gently teasing Moominmamma, making her giggle as she finished the last of dinner.

Snufkin and Joxter sat on the porch steps, part of the group but far enough away for comfort. Snufkin leaned against his father cautiously, and an arm was draped across his shoulders.

For all his worries, he'd never thought he'd enjoy his dad's company so much once they'd found each other.

As they ate, looking over his friends and family, Snufkin felt as if his heart were as full as his stomach, and he couldn't stop his tail from waving slowly in joy.

And he never noticed as it slowly faded into view.


	7. Romance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moomin and Snorkmaiden are finally ready to tell Snufkin how they feel, but a new, annoyingly persistent, admirer has appeared.

Of all the things Snufkin had seen or experienced in all his travels, he never expected a real romance to be part of it.

He'd had his share of people trying to court him over the years. Most of those who tried had an image of him in their minds when they learned that he was a vagabond. It was a more romantic, dashing image than reality had ever been, and it wasn't Snufkin.

It was an image formed from stories and songs, romanticized images of life on the road, and it had little to do with reality. With the person Snufkin was. There was nothing in the stories about fishing, about rainy days, about the days that were cold or lonely. About only getting to wash in cold streams unless you were passing through a town (or, in Snufkin's case, Moomin Valley, where Moominmamma had been clear enough in her offer of their tub for him to take her up on it on a regular basis.)

About wanting the time alone, about being free of the social obligations that came with expectations and not wanting a traveling partner.

Well, some were trying to court him, some just wanted the mystique, the prestige, the storybook ideal of having him in their bed for the night, of seducing the vagabond. It varied, from those who were sure he was going to be easy to sweet talk into a quick fling, convinced vagabonds left strings of broken hearts or one night stands behind them to those who saw him as a prize to be won, whether that be for a night or a lifetime.

Some went about the attempts at courtship lightly, honestly, without hidden motivations. It was a flirtation, something to talk about later and remember with a rosy glow, flowers and poems and compliments, and if they were able to charm the pretty little vagabond into their bed, then all the better. Those were easy to laugh with, to laugh off. To meet on their own ground just long enough to discourage them gently and let them both go on their way feeling flattered, taking 'no' for an answer with grace.

The earnest ones were harder to deal with, the ones who had that image in their head and weren't willing to let it go, who convinced themselves that traveling was what they wanted and, whether they realized it or not, saw Snufkin as a way to begin those romantic travels, as a way out of their mundane lives. They didn't care for Snufkin, but what he represented, but they weren't going to believe the reality no matter what he did to show them. They would stop and stare, waiting for him to behave the way their mental script said he should.

They left Snufkin shutting down, drained to exhaustion and an anxious mess, retreating as quickly as possible back to the woods. They were the ones who cried, who pleaded, who left everyone involved upset, and made Snufkin need to spend longer than usual avoiding other people.

They were, in general, exhausting.

The worst were the ones who didn't want to take 'no' for an answer. The ones who didn't think anyone would listen to a vagabond or who didn't much care. Who were sure that 'no' was being hard to get, who had their own images of what a vagabond should be and were angry when he didn't match it, or who wanted him more when he didn't.

They were the ones who learned that, while Snufkin looked soft, hiking up and down mountains while carrying all one's worldly possessions left one stronger than they looked, and those small paws held very sharp claws, and Snufkin had experience at evading the police if they believed the story they were fed rather than seeking the truth of the matter.

They were also the rarest, and Snufkin hadn't needed to deal with them often. He was glad of it, as each time it happened he froze up at first before he was able to snap out of it and defend himself, and it left him feeling dirty whenever he thought of it despite none of them managing anything.

At first, he worried Moomin fell into the second group. So earnest, so eager, he seemed to put Snufkin on a pedestal, and Snufkin knew falling was painful to everyone.

So at first, he was that much more distant than he wanted to be, a bit colder, more aloof, still wanting that friendship but unwilling to commit to anything while he was being admired. He didn't want to hurt Moomin, but he didn't want admired, either.

Except...except Moomin listened. Moomin still admired him, but it wasn't as some romantic figure. It was as Snufkin, as just him. Flaws and all.

And despite himself, Snufkin admired Moomin, too. True, he was a little soft, a little spoiled and dependent, but he was kind. He was gentle, and he listened, and he wanted to learn.

Snorkmaiden was the romantic type, the kind to get swept away, but the first time she'd met Snufkin, he'd just dug his way out of jail. And then there had been the comet, and her starting to date Moomin. She might have romanticized the vagabond lifestyle at some point, but she was too close to Snufkin to do that now.

Not that it mattered, as Moomin and Snorkmaiden were dating each other, but she and Snufkin were friends. Good friends. Who weren't blinded anymore by expectations or putting each other on pedestals.

\---XXX---

Snorkmaiden and Moomin squeezed paws. Today was the day, they were running out of time before Snufkin left for the winter. They either did it today, or they'd have to wait a whole winter to tell Snufkin.

It wasn't fair to tell him right before he left, and make him have to wonder all winter while they worried over his reactions.

They turned to go and stopped short.

Joxter was leaning against the door frame, a shade to casual to actually be casual. Little My was mirroring him, though her smirk was what gave her away.

“Sooooo...” she drawled. “What exactly are your intentions with my little brother?”

Moomin's fur slicked down as Snorkmaiden turned an interesting shade of purple, the red of irritation mixing with the pink of a blush and the blue of worry.

“Little My!” she cried indignantly.

“Don't you 'Little My' me, I asked you a question,” Little My tossed back, clearly enjoying herself. “You two have been making goo goo eyes at him ever since you brought him home, and I'm sick of it. So are you gonna make a move or what?”

They glanced at Joxter, who shrugged, still silent, those blue predator eyes watching them from the shadows cast by the brim of his hat, unreadable and intimidating.

Moomin drew himself up. “We were gonna go talk to him now, Little My,” he said. He slumped again, unconsciously twirling the tuft of his tail. “What if he doesn't come back in the spring after we do?” he said, clutching at it now. “I mean, he doesn't want tied down, what if...”

Little My rolled her eyes, stalking over and smacking Moomin's leg, but gently for Little My. “He comes back every year, if you hadn't driven him off by now you won't with this. Back me up here, are you going to interrogate them or not?” she demanded of Joxter.

He shrugged, slow and lazy, tilting his head back to lean it against the door frame, suddenly back to careless Joxter and shedding the moment when they'd all remembered he was a predator. “I just wanted to see what they'd do if they were given a hard time about it,” he said easily. He looked over at Moomin and Snorkmaiden, weighed them, and smiled. “He got his paws and tail back from being here. He already comes back every summer to spend three quarters of the year in one place. He's got enough mumrik in him to only come back if there's something or someone that calls him here. I wouldn't be surprised if it was you two.”

There was a pause, as they all thought back to the other day, when Snufkin's tail had reappeared.

It had been another awkward conversation in a string of them, though Snufkin claimed he didn't have any others he was hiding. At least, nothing big, like the invisibility or the orphanage.

They suspected it was things like times an adventure didn't go so well, why he sometimes came back from winter weighing less than he had when he left, things he didn't want to think about or worry them over.

Maybe, the Moominparents and Moomin and Snorkmaiden, Joxter and Little My and Mymble all hoped, maybe Snufkin would start sharing them now. Now that the invisibility was out in the open, that he'd had to tell them so much else, now that he was surer than ever that they were there for him.

None of them would push it, but they could hope.

\---XXX---

Snufkin leaned back against the tree and sighed, tilting his hat over his face while his line trailed in the water, the rod held in place with a stick and a rock.

He cared about his friends and newfound family more than he'd ever thought possible, but he still needed some time by himself to recharge. Especially after a week like this one, with all its emotional highs and lows.

All things considered, by his estimate he'd probably be feeling better by dinnertime, the tightness in his stomach and chest dissolved and relaxed once more.

He probably wouldn't join them for dinner, but he'd be able to be back at his tent and within viewing distance, and he wouldn't feel the need to retreat if any of them came to talk.

It was why Snufkin had chosen this out of the way spot for some fishing. No one ever came this way.

Hearing Stinky's voice was like having a pile of bricks dropped on him from above. Not this, not now.

Maybe if he kept quiet, Stinky would get bored and leave. It had worked before.

“He's right this way, I know I saw him!”

...every so often, Snufkin thought, it might be nice to be able to swear.

He kept his hat in place, pretending to be asleep and projecting _go away_ with every fiber of his being.

There was a soft clink, as if something hard had changed hands...probably money, although it wasn't of much use here in Moomin Valley...and the sound of Stinky leaving.

Then there was quiet again, but it was a different quiet.

Someone else was here, and they were watching him from the trees. Because that wasn't creepy at all.

With a pained sigh, Snufkin tilted his hat back and sat up properly. “Okay, I know you're there. Come on out. What're you up to?”

Snufkin didn't recognize the person who walked out of the woods at first. He wasn't a long term resident of Moomin Valley, which didn't always mean much. People came and went in Moomin Valley, sometimes staying less than a day and sometimes settling permanently.

After a moment, it clicked – he was spending the summer with a family on the other side of the valley, and they'd met briefly at the Midsummer party. Not that Snufkin remembered him at all, really, but it was important when wandering to be able to remember things like that.

At least partially fillyjonk, from first glance, and in the sort of self conscious 'romantic' outfit that immediately set alarms ringing, the sort of thing people who want to think of themselves as artists wore without the stains that said they worked at writing or painting or any other actual artistic pursuit that might ruin the perfectly coiffed outfit.

All style, no substance.

The poet stared at Snufkin for an uncomfortably long moment before dropping to one knee. “O beauteous one, forgive this unworthy one's intrusion into thy solitude.”

Oh all spirits of nature what did I do to deserve this, Snufkin thought in a panic. He started to get up, freezing when one of his paws was grasped.

His tail fluffed and he froze, everything centered on the unwanted touch to his paw.

“I have been unable to stop thinking of thee since the party this Midsummer. They beauty outshone the very stars, and thy music was the very music they dance to. Thy travels have given thee wisdom, and I would have thee as my muse if thou would only consent.”

Snufkin kept his head tilted, hiding under his hat. “First, drop the old time language, and second I'm not a muse. I'm sorry, but no.”

“But...”

Snufkin tugged harder on his hand, and miraculously, it was released. “I...you have the wrong idea,” Snufkin said, tugging down his hat. “You've mistaken me for someone else. So the answer is still no. Sorry. I have to go now.”

With that, he hurried to grab his rod and beat a swift retreat. The poet called after him, but Snufkin knew these woods and how to disappear in them better than almost anyone in Moomin Valley, and was gone before the poet could search for him.

\---XXX---

Snufkin hurried back to his tent, pausing only when he heard Stinky laughing from the trees.

“What's the matter, didn't you like your new suitor?” Stinky taunted.

“You're vile,” Snufkin said sharply, “and we'll be having words later.”

Stinky disappeared back into the trees, mocking Snufkin as he went but still retreating. 

He likely wouldn't reappear for a week in the hopes Snufkin would forget and not 'have words' with him later.

\---XXX---

Snufkin reached his tent and shoved his rod inside. From up in the tree, his dad watched.

“What's ruffled your fur?” he asked languidly, but when Snufkin glanced up those eyes were sharp on him and concerned, belying the tone.

Snufkin huffed. “Someone who's read too many romance novels about vagabonds,” he said sourly.

Joxter huffed as well, an eerily similar sound to his son's. “Ah, one of those,” he said. “So annoying. Think you got them to leave you alone?”

“Well I told him no twice, that should be enough,” Snufkin said. “I wasn't ready to come back yet, but I didn't want bothered again.”

“Try a tree,” his father suggested. “No one thinks to look up. Oh, by the way, that Moomin and Snorkmaiden of yours were looking for you.”

Snufkin felt the blush coming, his tail curling in close, and tilted his head to hide under his hat again. “They're not my Moomin and Snorkmaiden,” he muttered.

“Like them to be, though, wouldn't you?” His father rolled on the branch somehow, arching his back and stretching, a smile playing along his lips.

“...I'm going to go find somewhere high to be for awhile.”

\---XXX---

Snufkin had been up in this tree for an hour. He couldn't fish, but he'd brought up the sewing he'd been practicing on.

It wasn't anything really fancy – a a new apron, as a present for Moominmamma – but Moominmamma had given him some pretty colors to try embroidery with, and he was already planning out what he'd stitch on it over the winter.

He finished the last stitch of the hem and finished it, holding it up to look at it properly. Not bad, really. The edges were straight, at least. Basic sewing he could do, but he'd kept to repair work before this rather than making something from scratch. It looked so much better with this hem stitch Moominmamma had shown him than a running stitch...who would have guessed there were so many different ways to connect two bits of fabric, or to put thread on it for decorations?

There was a call from below and he looked down, groaning when he saw the poet from earlier standing beneath his tree and looking up at him with wide, lovesick eyes.

He'd said no, how much clearer could he have been?

\---XXX---

Moomin and Snorkmaiden were getting discouraged. They'd been looking for Snufkin all day, but hadn't found him yet.

They wanted to give him his space, but they'd really wanted to tell him today, while there was still time before he'd be heading off for winter for him to process what they told him.

If they could remember everything they'd written down and not blow it completely.

A voice reciting poetry drew their attention, and, looking at each other curiously, they followed it.

And found a creature in frilly, storybook poet garb standing under a tree, reciting overblown love poetry into the branches.

He paused for breath, and they both started to hear Snufkin's voice from the branches. “Please stop.”

He didn't, but continued on, and the words began to register as he praised Snufkin's eyes, his music, went into a long verse about Snufkin's travels that sounded much more daring and romantic than the stories Snufkin told.

Snufkin continued telling him to stop when he paused for breath, adding, “I'm not going to date you.” “Seriously, enough.” “I said no!” “Please go away.”

The last sent Moomin and Snorkmaiden into action, as it was more plea than demand, with a note to it they'd learned meant Snufkin was nearing the end of his endurance while his tail, the only part of him they could see, was lashing in irritation and near panic.

“He said to leave him alone!” Snorkmaiden said loudly, cutting across the newest verse, another overblown one romanticizing Snufkin's lifestyle and proclaiming how he should be somehow clad in natures bounty, as if that wouldn't itch and be utterly impractical. 

The man bothering Snufkin turned and looked at them as though they were the ones being irrational.

“You are ruining the atmosphere,” he said haughtily. “You need to leave.”

“No, you do,” Moomin countered. “Snufkin's asked you to leave at least five times since we got here! Ignoring people when they tell you no isn't romantic!”

“...that's his name? Hm, not quite what I'd imagined, but it'll do. And persistence is romantic,” the man insisted. “That's how it _works_. He's not doing the seducing, so it's the other story. The pursuer is persistent, the vagabond pretends to resist, and then they come together in the cool moonlight.”

“I think I'm going to be sick,” Snufkin grumbled from the tree, and was ignored.

“Every story I've read about vagabonds tells of their wisdom and how wondrous it is to share a night with them, and he's the most beautiful creature I've ever seen,” he continued. 

“Well, your books are liars, and you're upsetting Snufkin and need to go,” Snorkmaiden insisted, flushing red. “You can't just go around trying to force people into a mold and you don't know Snufkin at all or you'd know how upset you're making him right now!”

“As if you know him,” the poet snapped back. “I saw him at the Midsummer party and knew at once he was meant to be my muse, that most precious of creatures!”

“Of course we know him!” Moomin snapped back, finally nearing the end of his own patience with this person who was bothering Snufkin and refusing to listen when he said no, and speaking without thinking of what he was saying, realizing who could hear him. “We've known him for years! We've been falling in love with him for years! With the way he closes his eyes and crinkles up his nose when he laughs, or the way he can fish for hours without saying a word, or how his eyes sparkle when he comes up with a new song on the fly and starts playing it! With the way we can all sit in silence for hours and just be happy to spend time with each other! The way he sings to himself when he thinks no one's listening, and the way he stands on clifftops to feel the storm coming! Even...even the way he leaves every winter, and he always comes back, and it's the best feeling in the world when we hear his harmonica and see him coming down the path!”

The poet had stopped short, was staring at Moomin with new respect. “I...I...that's so romantic!” he said, stars in his eyes. “I knew this place would inspire me! You wondrous muses, all of you! To pen!”

With that, he headed off into the woods, muttering words to himself, already composing something.

“Not even an apology,” Snorkmaiden said angrily. “...Moomin?”

“Oh no Snufkin heard that wasn't how we were going to tell him,” Moomin hissed in panic.

The tree rustled and Snufkin landed lightly in front of them, staring at them. It took a few tries to speak. “Is that...both of you?”

Snorkmaiden's red flushed to pink, and they both nodded. “I...I need a minute,” Snufkin said, and hurried off.

\---XXX---

Snorkmaiden and Moomin sat together on the riverbank, miserable and holding hands.

They'd known Snufkin would need time to process the idea, but for him to find out the way he had...what were the chances he would say yes now, after being chased after all day as some sort of ideal and then having all of that dumped onto his head.

There was a rustle of fabric, and the two glanced up cautiously to find Snufkin standing there, in the skirt he'd worn to the Midsummer party, clutching the fabric tightly in one hand and his hat hiding his face.

He sat down next to Moomin, the skirt puffing up around him. His free hand ran through the grass, almost nervously.

“Did you...mean what you said, back there?” he said, and he sounded so small, so unsure, Snufkin should never feel small or unsure so the answer burst from both of them before they could think.

“Of course we did!” “How could we not?”

There was an awkward pause, made more awkward by the way neither of them could see Snufkin's face.

Slowly, hesitatingly, Moomin reached out. “Can I...see you?” he asked, and he hated how watery his voice sounded, almost as if he were guilting Snufkin into letting him see his face.

Snufkin carefully removed his hat, lying it in Moomin's lap. He was still looking down, biting his lip, but he looked up after a moment, almost shyly.

“No one's said that about me before,” he said. “And meant it about me, not some ideal they had.”

“We wanted to do it differently,” Snorkmaiden said sadly. “Romantically. So it would be easier to come to terms with. If you don't feel the same we won't bring it up again.”

“...I didn't want to feel that way,” he said after a pause. “You two are dating. I don't want to come between you.”

“Moomin would probably be happiest in the middle,” Snorkmaiden agreed, startling a laugh out of Snufkin and a furious blush out of Moomin. “But what if that was where we wanted you? If we do want to be a trio? If we have been falling in love with you for a long time and think you're beautiful as you are?”

Snufkin stood up, brushing off his skirt. Bending, he hesitated for a breath before he nudged his nose against Moomin's, then against Snorkmaiden's, leaving all three of them blushing when he pulled back.

“There's going to be a star shower tonight,” he offered cautiously. “Care to come with me to watch? On the beach, maybe?”

Snorkmaiden put her paw in his, rising to her feet as Moomin took Snufkin's other paw. “That sounds like a lovely date,” she answered. “We would love to.”

\---XXX---

When Snufkin set off that winter, there was a ribbon of bright yellow and a ribbon of sapphire blue tied around his tail.

And in the highest room of Moomin House slept Moomintroll, with ribbons of yellow and green for his tail hanging from the bedpost, and Snorkmaiden, with ribbons of green and blue hanging from hers, both of them dreaming of spring and the return of their vagabond boyfriend and the greeting they would give him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we come to the end of Snufkin Week 2019! I wasn't prepared for this at all, pretty much all of these were finished the night before/morning of posting. Not my usual or preferred MO. Still, I hope some people like it. Let me know if you did! I'll be going back to my normal work schedule tomorrow and don't know if/when I'll have something else completed.


End file.
